Running with the Big Dogs
by JamiW
Summary: The 15th installment in the "Free" series. This contains some L&O characters, as well as In Plain Sight and originals. BA, MC, Ross/Rodgers, Lupo/Rubirosa, Bernard/Hayes, Cutter/Jennifer, Mary/John, et al
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, let's try this again. Timeline begins immediately post-Decisions & Distractions. I know it's been forever, so rereading a little may be helpful. Please remember that at this point in the series, I'm working with more than a dozen characters, and I'm trying to give them all equal time, so have patience for your favorites. If you're only all about the BA, this might not be for you. **

* * *

**Lupo POV**

* * *

"Tell me what happened."

"That's the thing. I don't know."

Cecilia's response wasn't what I was looking for, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that she probably already reached full panic mode before she made the decision to call me, which means her brain isn't working at maximum capacity. I need to cut her some slack.

I felt Connie come up behind me and she rested her palm against my back, so I turned to face her, hoping to get some sort of calming effect just from looking at her face.

Otherwise Cecilia and I might reach the meltdown stage together.

It worked. For whatever reason, just looking at Connie helps me find my balance.

"It's Mulder?" she whispered.

I shook my head and whispered _Cecilia_ and then I took another breath as I put the phone on speaker, and then I said to Cecilia, "Tell me the last thing you _do_ know."

"Well," she began in a shaky voice. "Earlier, Mulder had an idea for how to connect the dots in the search for my father. You know, he was thinking genesis, not contemporary, right? So he figured he could stalk the numbers, maybe tweak the markers a little, thinking it might send up the garrison, right?"

If the situation weren't so grave, I'd be laughing my ass off. Because I never imagined there could be another person on this earth who would speak just like Mulder.

And then _that_ thought had my gut clenching because I have no idea where he is right now, and he's so damn naïve and _not_ street savvy, and if someone's hurt him…

"So he revamped the search. And then what?" Connie prompted steadily, and God, I love her for being so level-headed. Well, for a million other reasons, too, but her cool in a crisis is currently at the top of the list.

"Well, um…we hadn't eaten anything since last night, so we were going to run out while his toaster was jamming, but it pinged faster than we expected, and he was so excited about it…"

She trailed off, her voice cracking on the last few words, and I'm dying here because if she can't finish the recount in the next minute, I'm just going to hang up and call the Boston Police, but then mercifully, she continued.

"So I told him to stay while I went out for food. I said it would only take me ten minutes, and he made a joke, saying in that amount of time, he could have my dad's high school transcripts. But it took me more like twenty minutes because there was a line at the café and the woman in front of me didn't have any cash and her credit card was declined and she wouldn't just get out of line so that the people behind her could pay while she figured out what to do, and…and…when I got back, he was gone."

"What about your front door? Was it forced open?"

"No. But it wasn't locked, either. And I locked it when I left."

"What time did you get back?" I asked carefully, wondering if he could've gone to catch up with her, to see what was taking so long, or maybe he took her dog for a walk, or just went for a walk himself, and he's going to turn up at any minute.

"An hour ago," she answered.

Could he be trying to catch the next train back to New York? Was he not having as much fun with Cecilia as it seemed?

"And he left his cell phone," Connie stated, and damn if I hadn't forgotten that glaring detail because Mulder doesn't go anywhere without his cell phone.

"Yes. And his Mac. And all of his stuff. I mean, he didn't leave to get away from me, if that's what you're thinking," she remarked, and I wouldn't blame her for feeling a little offended at the insinuation, but she doesn't sound it. She doesn't sound anything but worried. "Something happened."

The really scary thing is that I think she's right.

So that's how we found ourselves screaming up I-95, heading for Boston.

And yes, I called the BPD.

But that doesn't mean I'm going to sit at home with my thumb up my ass while they look for him. Because they're _not_ going to look for a grown man who's only been missing for a little more than an hour without any sign of foul play.

They'll wait at least another forty-seven hours.

So then I called Bobby.

"Where are you?" I asked when he answered.

"New London," he responded immediately, clearly picking up on the urgency in my tone. "Halfway back to the city. Why?"

"Cecilia called. Mulder's missing."

"Missing?" he repeated. "Since when?"

I went over the details with him, and then asked, "So what do you think? Any way this Giovanni Pirelli guy had a trap on a track? Do you know anything about him yet?"

Because that's who Mulder and Cecilia stumbled across as her potential father.

And Giovanni Pirelli is a very bad guy.

They got the hit when they were running her DNA against CODIS, although the sample in the system was supposedly damaged, meaning it could've created a false positive. The evidence of compromise was enough for a jury to find Pirelli innocent of his most recent charges, but if his DNA popped as a match to Cecilia's, then as far as I'm concerned, the odds are pretty good in favor of him being the father.

Apparently Mulder said the same thing.

And like I said, Pirelli isn't one of the good guys. He's a mobster, and not an honorable one like O'Connor.

And even though I don't think Cecilia knows the full extent of her possible dad's smarminess, she was still a little freaked out by the thought that her father's DNA was taken during an investigation.

Which is what prompted the call to Bobby last night.

He told them he'd find out more details on Pirelli when they got back to New York, and possibly find a way to get a DNA sample from the Massachusetts prison system so that a more definitive test can be run. So that she'll know for sure.

In the meantime, Mulder did a little more research to find out what he could about Pirelli.

Most recently, he stood trial for a triple homicide. That's the one where the DNA sample contamination finagled an acquittal.

He also spent the majority of the nineties doing a stretch in MCI-Cedar Junction, formerly known as Walpole. It houses the most violent felons in Massachusetts, and apparently Pirelli fit right in.

 _"He could tell that I was upset at the idea of someone like him being my father,"_ Cecilia told me earlier, when we were still on the phone. _"So he was trying to see if he could track Pirelli's whereabouts thirty years ago, to see if his and my mother's paths could've crossed. I think he was hoping to find out that they were in different time zones or something."_

 _"That's what he was working on when you left the apartment?_ " I asked her.

" _Yes. He was going through Pirelli's bank records, I think, to see if he spent any time in Martinique around the time of my conception. Because we already found out that Vanessa spent two weeks there, on an extended spring break, but it doesn't really make sense that a guy like him would be in a place like that, does it? Or that he'd manage to hook up with a woman like Vanessa?"_

Her vulnerability tugged at my heartstrings, and it was easy to forget that she's only ten years younger than me. She seems more like Mulder – much, _much_ younger than her years.

So I didn't tell her what I really think.

That teenagers spring breaking in Martinique make bad decisions. Especially when said teenager is a politician's spoiled brat daughter.

And that Martinique used to be a popular hub for the transporting of cocaine from South America, which is the perfect explanation for why a guy like Pirelli might be hanging around.

 _And_ that the likelihood of the DNA hit coming back inaccurate is negligible.

But I didn't say any of that.

Instead I assured her that we'd be in Boston as soon as humanly possible, and until then, she should stay calm and keep me posted if anything new develops.

"We'll turn around," Bobby offered after we discussed possibilities.

"No, it's fine. I'll handle it."

"Lupo, it's not a big deal. We're ninety minutes away. Probably closer than you."

"And you all have to work tomorrow," I reminded him. "Ross will blow a gasket if five of his detectives are AWOL."

"What do you think he'll do if something happens to Mulder?" he posed rationally, and that tight, nauseous feeling stormed through me again.

"It could be nothing," I insisted, and I'm not sure why I don't want them involved, except that maybe it's because if I get everyone involved, then it makes this whole thing real, and I don't want it to be real.

I want to show up at Cecilia's place and find Mulder sitting in her apartment, with a smile on his face, and this entire thing was just some big misunderstanding.

Because the alternative is terrifying.

"You go check it out," he conceded. "But if it turns into something, you call immediately. We'll use John's chopper and we can be up there in an hour."

"Deal."

I hung up with him and then clenched the wheel tightly in spite of my concerted effort to stay calm.

"Am I overreacting?" I asked Connie as I whizzed through traffic.

"I hope so," she answered.

"Tell me what Mike said about Flowers," I said, determined to take my mind off Mulder because there sure as hell isn't anything I can do about him from here.

Of course, I can't do anything about Flowers either, but at least it'll give us something else to talk about.

"He's outraged, just like we are. And he feels responsible."

"For the escape? How is that possibly his fault?"

She gave me a sad smile and then patted her hand on my leg as she said, "He's a lot like you. Takes on the weight of the world. Tell me you're not blaming yourself for Mulder."

Because I encouraged him to go.

Because I didn't better prepare him for the real world.

Because…

"Lupo," she said, interrupting my internal barrage of regrets.

"I know it's not my fault," I said instantly. "I just…I mean, I wish I'd taught him more about…well, everything."

"We've only known him a few months," she reminded me. "Not even that, really. You can't expect to catch him up on twenty-four years of life lessons."

"I know," I sighed.

"Besides, he was in prison, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"I'm betting he's craftier than we give him credit. And we already know he's a fighter."

Because of Carl Babbitt, the asshole who shot Mulder.

But that tragedy almost seemed to kick-start Mulder's life.

He made a miraculous recovery after nearly bleeding out, and now he has everything he wants in life…a great job, his own place, and a girlfriend.

It just wouldn't be fair for something to happen to him _now_ before he has the chance to enjoy it.

And really, what _could've_ happened?

Could Pirelli have the kind of sophisticated security system that would flag him anytime someone accessed his information?

Or is it someone else Mulder's hacked in the past who finally caught up to him?

Or maybe just a random home invasion turned kidnapping?

 _Yeah, because that happens all the time,_ I mocked myself.

"Lupo," Connie said in a patient but firm voice. "I'm losing you again."

"No," I replied as I settled my hand over top of hers. "You're right. He's going to be fine."

We were quiet for the rest of the drive, and as we reached the Boston city limits, Connie's cell phone rang.

"It's Mike," she said as she glanced at the display. "We're due some good news, don't you think? Maybe they've caught up to Flowers already."

I half-listened to her end of the conversation while going from memory on the directions to Cecilia's apartment, and as I pulled up outside her building, Connie hung up the phone.

"Well that's something I never expected to hear," she said.

"Good news?"

"Yes and no. He's still on the run, but…well, I don't know if I should even tell you."

I glanced over at her questioningly as I pulled the keys from the ignition, and I like that she has a smile playing on her lips. It helps take the paralyzing fear from the situation.

"Okay, but if you try to get an official statement from me, I'll plead the fifth," she continued, and then she paused dramatically before saying, "Mike committed B&E."

"He did what?" I practically shouted.

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "He and Jennifer went into Schmenke's place to see what they could find."

"And?"

"They found faked identification for Flowers, so they think he might try to go there to pick them up. He's going to have Detective Benson execute an official search and then stake out the place to see if they can catch him."

"Well, that's definitely something," I agreed. "Wow, I didn't think Cutter had it in him."

"I think Jennifer might be just the right kind of bad influence he needs," she grinned. Then she leaned over and kissed me quickly before saying, "Let's go upstairs. Twenty bucks says he's either back, or she's heard from him and he's on his way."

I'd never bet against Connie. She's too smart.

But my heart dropped when Cecilia opened the door to her apartment. She was clearly distraught, with silent tears streaming down her cheeks and Mulder's cell phone still in her hand, as though she was afraid to let go.

"What happened? Did you hear something?" I asked quickly.

She nodded, but then instead of offering any more of a response to my desperate question, she threw her arms around me and cried.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Alex**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

"I'm going to make a call."

"Let's wait until we hear from Lupo," I said in response to Mike's emphatic statement.

"And lose a couple of hours? I don't think I need to throw statistics at you."

"No, you don't," Bobby said firmly as I met Mike's eye through the rearview mirror. "There were over 87,000 active missing persons cases as of December of last year, and surprisingly enough, only 54.3% of those are under the age of 21, meaning that 45.7% of the people missing in the United States are adults."

"Exactly," Mike responded after a beat. "Only I was going to say something much smarter sounding, like there's an ass load of grownups who go missing, too, so we can't overlook the seriousness of this simply by virtue of him being twenty-four years old."

"I think we're all in agreement about that, Mike," Carolyn said soothingly. "But we need to know details first. Let's give Lupo a chance to assess the situation."

Mike nodded, but then said, "This Pirelli guy…he's bad news."

"Right," I agreed. "But how the hell could he have known that Mulder was looking at him? And how would he have found Mulder at Cecilia's place?" I posed.

Of course, I know the answer to that, and so does everyone else in the car.

If Pirelli was using electronic monitoring on something that Mulder stumbled across, it would only be a matter of tracking the IP to find Cecilia's location.

Well, unless Mulder worked his magic to hide his tracks. But would he have thought to do that? Would he have considered the danger involved with digging into a life like Pirelli's?

I mean, he's smart. Check that. He's ridiculously, crazy smart. But only when it comes to computers. Not people.

So I understand why Mike's worried right now. We all are.

But calling in the Irish mob at this stage of the game is premature.

And then I had to laugh at my own thoughts.

 _Calling in the Irish mob…._

Not so long ago it would've been absurd at _any_ stage of the game.

But now it's not really the mob. It's Mike's uncle. And his aunt. Cousins…

Last night was like something out of a fairy tale. Because the whole night was for Mike, and I'd wager to say that not once in Mike's life has an entire night been about him.

Or at least not since he met Carolyn.

But last night, everyone who showed up at O'Connor's home was there to meet their newly discovered kin, and to welcome him with open arms.

And yeah, there were jokes about him being a cop, and how favors were in order, and so on, but they were only jokes because everyone apparently knew Casey O'Grady. And everyone loved him.

Which means, by extension, they all love Mike.

And Carolyn. Bobby. Me.

There weren't any distinctions as far as the hospitality went.

" _This one's full of piss and vinegar, she is,"_ O'Connor said as he was introducing me to a group of four cousins who were involved in a seemingly complex game of dice. " _And handy with the iron._ "

" _Is that right?"_ one of them asked in amusement. I smiled and shrugged noncommittally while Shane stood next to me, nodding enthusiastically.

" _Well, you might be right with the shimmy, but what can you do with the bones, lass?"_ another asked.

And only because he held up the dice to me as he asked the question did I have an inkling as to what he was talking about.

" _What d'ya say? Will you be suckin' diesel with the rest of us, then?_ " a third one teased, and that remark I have no clue about, but he smiled as he said it, so I took the dice from the second man's outstretched hand and joined in their game.

I'm sure they cheated quite a bit, but it was fun. Which is apparently what it means to _suck diesel_ , although I have no idea why.

Anyway, it was like Shane was our guardian, slipping us into the mix with various groups, and easing the transition from outsider cops to family.

It was nearly three in the morning before we got back to the hotel, and it was only after sincere promises to visit again soon that we'd been allowed to leave the O'Connor home.

" _And bring that other brother of yours,"_ Shane's wife Claire insisted.

I love how she said _other_ , meaning she understands the bond between Bobby and Mike.

" _Yes, ma'am. I would have this time, but he's on his honeymoon."_

" _He can't honeymoon in Boston?"_ she retorted with feigned insult. " _What's the matter, is his lass too high-class to mix with the likes of us?"_

" _No,"_ I replied as I snorted out a laugh. _"In fact, next time I'll be sure to introduce her to the dice-throwing cousins. She'll take them to school."_

And I wasn't kidding about that. Mary can spot a sleight of hand from a mile away, not to mention she's no slouch at prestidigitation, either. She claims it's in her genes, from her con-man father, but I don't think so.

I've spent enough time disputing the idea of paternal genes just _being there,_ despite lack of interaction beyond conception, so I'm pretty sure she is what she is because of _her_ and not because of anything her absentee father might have been.

Anyway, I let Bobby drive us back to the hotel, since it's possible that I enjoyed a little bit too much of their Irish whiskey, and by the time we got back to our room, I was exhausted. I mean, it's been a hell of a couple of weeks. We've been living out of a hotel for ten days now, and working almost nonstop.

" _I think we should talk to Ross about a vacation,"_ I mumbled to Bobby as I stretched out on the bed.

" _Another one?"_

" _Another? When did we take one?"_ I asked, rolling over onto my back so that I could watch him as he got undressed.

" _Mexico, remember? Last fall?"_ he reminded me as he tossed his button-down onto the chair.

" _Okay, let me rephrase that. When did we take one that didn't turn into a murder investigation?"_

He smiled at me and slowed his motions, picking up on the fact that I was enjoying both the banter and the show.

" _Good point. So where are we going?_ "

It's one of our little games, talking about the places we'd like to visit.

Realistically, we know the odds of actually going are slim because not only do we not really have the money for any kind of elaborate trip, but we also don't want to take that much time off.

We'd miss work too much.

Sounds crazy, I know, but a couple of days here and there is more than enough.

Actually, a full day in bed is usually all I need to recharge my batteries.

" _You know where I want to go?_ " I questioned softly as he unbuckled his belt.

My eyes tracked his motion as he then unzipped his pants and pushed them to the floor, and then I finally brought my eyes up to his as he hummed his encouragement for me to tell him.

" _Home_ ," I stated.

I got up from the bed and slid my hands inside his boxer shorts, taking over the task of ridding him of the last piece of clothing, and then I spent a few moments running my lips over his skin.

" _Home?_ " he repeated, and I can tell that he's losing focus, and I love knowing I can do that to him.

" _Uh huh,"_ I murmured as I turned us around so that the bed was behind him. He made a token effort to tug on my clothes, but I was on a mission at the moment, and it didn't involve me getting undressed, so I gave him a light shove and he sat down.

" _Just you and me, in our bed,_ " I continued. " _For twenty-four hours. No cell phones, no one knocking on the door…"_

I trailed off as I knelt down in front of him and then I slid my hand over the length of him, watching as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

I love seeing him in concentrated pleasure.

I stroked over him a few more times, and then he caught my wrist in his hand.

" _Not like that,_ " he said on a growl, and just his tone sent arousal through me at a ridiculous rate.

I would've thought that after more than nine months together, the excitement might start to wane a little, but it hasn't. Not at all.

In fact, if anything, it's gotten more intense, more passionate, more loving.

" _No,_ " I replied, agreeing with his command. And then I leaned in closer as I exhaled lightly, letting my breath tease over his hyper-sensitized skin. " _Like this."_

And you know, whoever coined the phrase _it's better to give than receive_ probably had _this_ in mind.

Because it was damn good.

Although, I'll admit it.

I did a little bit of receiving last night, too.

But that was last night.

Or rather early this morning.

And now it's twelve hours later and we're heading back to the city, and the light mood from before has dissipated.

Because of Mulder.

"I'm just saying…where could the kid be?" Mike reasoned. "Who knew he was in Boston, except us? Who else even knows him at all?"

"You think it was random?" I asked.

"She doesn't live in the best part of town," Bobby said with a shrug. "It's possible."

"Hey, what time are John and Mary getting back?" Carolyn asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

I don't blame her at all because it's been _so_ nice to see Mike happy this weekend.

There was a pause while Mike debated calling her out on it, and then he said, "Around six, I think. You know, we need to spend some time looking into those emails, too."

I did an internal roll of my eyes at Mike's ability to come up with something else to worry about, but he does have a point. John receiving death threats _does_ warrant an investigation, no matter how trivial he thinks they might be.

"I don't like the timing of the threats," he continued.

"Coinciding with the Albanian case," Bobby agreed.

"Didn't we already decide that Albanians don't threaten via email?" I questioned. "Come on, guys. We've seen their work. First hand."

I glanced over at Bobby and caught his eye and I know he knows what I'm thinking.

That the Albanians lack of finesse is why we now have a brand new front door.

And new bathroom rugs.

 _Again._

But like I said, that doesn't mean we don't need to look into it further.

Although Mike was going to ask Mulder.

 _Where the hell is that kid?_

"It's Pirelli. It has to be," Mike muttered, his mind clearly having gone down the same path as mine.

"You're giving a gangster thug an awful lot of credit," Bobby remarked. "I find it hard to believe he's that smart."

We went back and forth during the rest of the drive, assuring each other that Mulder's fine and no one fully believing it, and it doesn't help that we still haven't heard from Lupo by the time we got home.

Because I can't decide if that's good or bad.

I mean, if he's truly missing, Lupo should've called, like he promised. If he's _not_ in any trouble, then why hasn't anyone called to ease our minds?

"Call me if you hear anything," Mike said firmly as they got out of the backseat.

"Of course. You, too."

Ten minutes later, Bobby was sliding his key into the lock on our new steel door.

"Kevin's friend did a nice job," he commented, pausing for a moment before pushing the door open, both of us looking over the repaired and freshly painted door frame that's now reinforced with eight-gauge stainless steel.

"Yes, he did," I agreed. "I'm hoping the bathroom looks just as good."

" _I'm_ hoping this is the last time we have to redo the bathroom."

I flashed him a smile over my shoulder as I walked into the apartment ahead of him, and then I ignored the memories that stormed my brain, the ones of Bobby sitting in the kitchen, dazed and confused as he slowly reverted to calling me Eames.

That was the last time we were here.

"I'm fine," he said knowingly from directly behind me as I stopped in the kitchen doorway.

I'd expected to see blood on the kitchen floor, but there wasn't any. It was sparkling clean.

I turned and gave Bobby a kiss, one that was quick but meaningful. One that spoke of relief and love and thankfulness.

"Kendra must have come over, too," I commented as I moved down the hall.

I can't help but be touched by the thought that care was taken to put our place in order because while my brother's friend had signed on to do the construction work, it's obvious that my brother and his wife must have spent some time removing all signs of what happened here.

But I still remember.

And thinking about it, in conjunction with what might be happening with Mulder, has my stomach tied up in knots.

"Green. That's a good color," Bobby said as we peeked in the bathroom and took notice of the new shaggy rugs adorning the floor.

I didn't say it out loud, because I don't want to upset him or seem ungrateful, but all I can think is the _next_ time I blow someone away in our bathroom, it'll look like Christmas in here.

"Uh huh," I mumbled.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sliding his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind.

"I think so. I'm just...worried."

"I know. But…"

He trailed off because before he could finish his sentence, his phone started vibrating and since it was in his front pocket, we could both feel it.

"Lupo?" I asked hopefully before he even had the chance to pull it out.

"Hang on," he replied, and then he glanced down and said, "Yeah. It's a text."

"And?" I asked impatiently.

His eyes scanned over the message and then he looked up at me and smiled.

"It says, _keep the chopper on the ground. I'll have him home by midnight_."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Liz**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Liz POV**

* * *

It's been one of those weekends.

You know what I mean.

The kind you wish you could capture and replay over and over again because sometimes life is just really, really good.

I didn't get any calls from work.

There weren't any high-profile murders.

Two of my good friends just got married to two _other_ good friends.

My step-son is wading back into the dating pool - with a seemingly nice girl, I might add.

My other step-son is only a week away from graduation, after which time he'll finally be able to live in the same city with us.

My somehow acquired third step-son is not merely _wading_ into the dating pool, but apparently jumping in with both feet, on a weekend rendezvous with…well, with my technical daughter, if the paperwork is to believed. Of course she's _not_ mine, but still…

Oh, and my husband and I have made love not once, not twice, but _four_ times in the past forty-eight hours.

I know.

It sounds implausible.

But I'm currently basking in the afterglow of round four, so trust me…it happened.

And the earth moved all four times.

There wasn't any faking going on this weekend.

Not that I do that very often anyway. I feel kind of bad about confessing to that on girls' night. I mean, it's true, but only on rare occasions.

And like I said, not true at all this weekend.

Or any day in recent history.

It's almost like my relationship with Danny can be divided into two distinct segments.

Before Marcus was killed, and after.

And maybe that's not entirely true.

It took Danny several months to shake his preconceived notions and asshole tendencies when it comes to his detectives.

 _Who're all now our friends._

But still…it was that day last September, when Danny got shot, and I had no idea where to turn, or who to call. Who I could trust.

But I trusted Alex and Bobby.

And they entrusted _me_ to Mike and Carolyn.

It's been a snowball rolling downhill ever since.

And I mean that in the best possible way.

Because I currently have more friends - or rather, more _family_ – than I ever thought possible.

"We should probably get dressed."

The statement was made in a quiet rumble, and I could feel the brush of Danny's breath across my ear as he spoke.

At the moment, we're lying on the couch together.

Naked, of course.

The room is only partially lit, and the house is quiet, and I can feel the beating of my husband's heart beneath my hand…I'm not sure I ever want to move from this spot.

But Danny makes a good point.

Because Jeremy's not due home for another hour or so, but he's proven to be rather unpredictable when it comes to time.

And I can't swear to it, but I think another incident of him seeing first hand that we still engage in carnal activities might put him over the edge.

"You know it's been forty-eight hours, right?" I asked as I reluctantly eased away from Danny and got to my feet.

He smiled and stood next to me, leaning in to kiss my cheek as he said, "Ssh, Liz…don't say that out loud."

"Have you gotten superstitious on me?" I questioned in amusement.

"I'm just saying…neither of our cells have rang since Friday evening, which means the Gorens and Logans stayed out of trouble in Boston, and Bernard and Lauren behaved themselves in California. Mary and John didn't break any international laws in the Bahamas…."

I barked out a laugh as I reached for my clothes, and responded, "You think Lauren and Bernard behaved themselves while on their honeymoon?"

"At his mother's house," he pointed out.

"I'm pretty sure that didn't stop them."

"You know what I'm saying," he replied, pulling me into his arms. It seems he's just as reluctant as me to end our moment because even though I managed to put on my bra and underwear, he's still wearing nothing at all.

But I can't make myself care.

Jeremy's out with Natalie, so he won't be home early. Right?

"I think it's a fluke that we've been on a run of trouble lately," he continued as I snuggled against him. "And it's long past time that everyone got a little peace and quiet. We should be able to just do our jobs without all of the additional personal crises, you know?"

"Mmhmm," I hummed.

"I mean, Alex's brother got into trouble, and then Jeremy…Connie had that stalker, and you had blackmailers…and don't even get me started on the Albanians."

"Danny, I can feel your blood pressure going up just at the thought," I admonished gently, but he turned it around on me, running his hands over my butt and pulling me more firmly against him as he said suggestively, "It's not _that_ stuff that's raising my blood pressure."

"What, you think you're ready for round five?" I teased. "Already?"

"Maybe. You have a problem with that?"

"No, but Jeremy might if we don't move this party upstairs."

And as I mentioned his name, I heard his footsteps thundering up the outside stairs.

"Shit," I muttered as I grabbed for my clothes. "Danny…"

But he was right there with me, scooping up our garments and then taking my hand, leading me up the stairs as we heard the deadbolt unlock.

"When did this happen?" Danny whispered in amusement as we topped the stairs, out of sight of the front door.

"What? Where we almost get busted again?"

"When we turned into the teenagers trying not to get busted," he clarified with a grin.

I'm not sure I'd ever tell him, but I know when.

When he turned that corner, starting on that day last September.

Because before then, we were a once or twice a week kind of couple. At the most. I mean, we're busy people with hectic careers and there isn't always time for love-making.

Right?

Wrong.

Now we _make_ time.

Even if it means that every once in a while we have to do a mad, naked dash up the stairs to avoid detection.

"Dad? Liz?" Jeremy called out as I stood in the upstairs hallway, pulling my t-shirt over my head.

"We'll be right down," Danny called back, and then I nearly had a heart attack as I heard Jeremy coming up the stairs.

Fortunately, Danny had his pants on by this point, so I slipped into the bathroom to finish dressing while he stayed in the hall to talk to his son.

"Yeah, I was just checking to see if it's…" Jeremy began, his tone hushed so I had to put my ear against the door to hear him, and then he shouted, "Oh my God, seriously, Dad?"

"What?" Danny asked innocently, and I can just picture him out there, shrugging his shoulders before pulling his shirt over his head.

"Nothing," Jeremy responded. "I guess I should be grateful that you weren't downstairs this time, right? Because I have Natalie with me. I told her it would be alright if she came for dinner."

"You have a cell phone, Jeremy. You could text us to give us a heads-up."

"I _did_. I texted both of you, but you didn't respond, so I figured you guys were working or something. I should've known it was _that_ kind of work."

"It's not work at all," I corrected as I opened the bathroom door. I winked at him as I ran my hand over his head, and then I added, "Not if you're doing it right."

"Jeez, Liz, come on," he said as he rolled his eyes. "You two know you have a bedroom, right?"

"I'm well aware of that," I replied drolly. "So…Natalie's downstairs?"

"Yeah," he answered, seemingly grateful for the change of subject. "Is that okay?"

"Your friends are always welcome in this house," I answered firmly. "Give us a few minutes, and we'll be down. I'm looking forward to meeting her."

"Yeah, she's pretty cool," he said with a smile. "Oh, hey, have either of you heard from Mulder?"

"No. You haven't? He should be back, right?"

"I don't know what time, but he's working tomorrow, so it shouldn't be too late. But I texted him and he didn't answer, so…I don't know. Maybe he's sleeping on the train or something," he said with a shrug.

"I'm sure you'll get all the sordid details soon enough."

Three hours later, at nearly six-thirty, the four of us sat down to dinner.

Originally, I hadn't planned on cooking anything tonight, so Danny ran to the market while I chatted with Natalie about medical school, and then he got involved in the conversation while I grilled chicken, and chopped and sautéed vegetables for a casual version of fajitas.

And everything feels so normal.

Natalie seems very nice. Mature and smart, and yet she has this bubbly quality about her that I'd probably find annoying in just about anyone else, but it works for her.

Or maybe it's just because Jeremy hasn't stopped smiling the whole afternoon.

Not that I think he's ready to fall in love again or anything, but he deserves a little happiness. And fun, for God's sake.

And from where I'm sitting, Natalie's helping him with both.

Anyway, I'm loving the whole family scene, and yet at the same time, I'm starting to feel a sense of foreboding because Jeremy still hasn't heard from Mulder, and in his case, no news isn't necessarily good news.

 _He should be home by now_ , I thought.

And what about Lauren and Bernard? Are they back yet? Did his mother treat her right, or was she yet another disappointing parental figure in Lauren's life?

And Mary…

"Liz?"

"What?" I asked distractedly.

"We lost you for a minute there. Are you alright?" Danny asked.

"Oh, I was just…thinking about…everyone," I answered, and it hit me that I don't _like_ going forty-eight hours without a phone call from anyone.

"You're worried because we haven't heard from anyone?" he guessed, looking slightly incredulous. "Liz, that's a good thing. They don't call the chief or the ME unless there's trouble."

"Maybe I don't want to be the ME right now. Maybe I just want to be the friend who needs details about honeymoons and Irish uncles and the end of a two-week sex moratorium."

"Liz," Jeremy warned.

"I don't mean me," I explained quickly, and I started to say more, but then I stopped myself because I realized what I was about to say sounds pretty damn corny.

 _I want to hear from everyone and not have things be wrong._

 _I want to know they're all safe, and back in this time zone._

God, when did I turn into _everyone's_ mother?

"I'm just saying," I continued at last, but then I trailed off again, and to my surprise, it was Natalie who bailed me out.

"I'm like that with my little brother," she said easily as she reached for another tortilla. "He's a pain in my ass, always calling about this or that, and then suddenly I realize it's been a day and I haven't heard from him and it freaks me out, so then I have to talk to him just to make sure he's okay."

"Exactly," I said with appreciation. "So you have a little brother? How old?"

And the conversation was off and running again, for which I'm grateful because I was starting to feel awfully sappy.

I think it's this thing with Cecilia. Or rather, I think she's the final straw in a long line of events that have combined to create a huge upheaval of my perspective of the importance of life outside of work.

I just find my feelings sitting much closer to the surface lately.

And maybe that doesn't make any sense, I don't know.

"Are you coming up for it?" Jeremy asked, and it took me a second to realize that he was looking at me, and I struggled to replay the last bits of conversation, but then I had it.

Aaron's graduation.

Nancy won't be thrilled to see me, that's for sure, but I'm not going to miss it just to make her happy. Not when he personally invited me.

"I'll be there with bells on," I replied.

"Now _that_ I'd like to see," Danny teased.

Jeremy started laughing and started to elaborate on the image, making it sound like I might wear something similar to a bedlah, and the maturity level of our conversation devolved rather quickly until we were interrupted by a ringing phone.

Danny's cell phone.

"Be careful what you wish for," he said to me as he got up from the table, running his hand tenderly across my shoulders as he passed me, walking over to the counter to where he'd left his phone. He glanced at the display and then announced, "It's Lupo."

 _Mulder._

In spite of our lighthearted conversation, I was instantly on alert.

And I don't know why my mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion, but…wouldn't Mulder have texted Jeremy by now, if he were home? I mean, the boy just had sex for the first time in his life. I don't see him not wanting to brag a little to his friend.

"Please tell me you aren't in jail," Danny answered, clearly nowhere near as worked up as me about the phone call.

But his smile faded quickly.

"What? When?"

"Is it Mulder?" I asked as I got up from the table. "Is he alright?"

Danny waved a hand at me to get me to quiet down, so I stood and watched him anxiously as he listened to whatever Lupo had to say. Jeremy came and stood next to me, and I can tell he's worried, too, which makes me even _more_ worried.

"What do you need?" Danny asked. "Okay…okay…got it. Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

There was a pause for a moment as Lupo responded to the remark that sounded more like a direct order, and then I was almost able to breathe again when Danny barked out a laugh, and said, "Yeah, I mean just like that. Sit tight. I'll handle it."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Mulder**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Mulder POV**

* * *

I'll admit it.

I kind of screwed up.

And I don't mean because I hacked CODIS or because I found a back door into archived records of Wells Fargo and tracked the spending habits of Giovanni Pirelli.

It's not even because I slipped a squawker on his digits.

Which, by the way, I didn't mention to Cecilia.

Because if I told her, then she'd want to know _why_ , and I don't want to tell her because I don't want to freak her out or anything, but I also can't lie to her because the ten told me how important it is not to do that to women, and Cecilia's not just any woman so I definitely can't lie to her.

Although I guess omission is kind of a lie, too.

But it doesn't really count if I'm doing it to protect her, right?

I don't know.

I guess I should check with Lupo on that.

Anyway, even if I _do_ have to Irish Spring it, I still don't consider it a screw up, and I don't think she will either.

In fact, it's actually pretty damn smart, even for me.

So no, none of that is when I unwittingly threw it to the hound.

It was later.

After the FBI showed up at the door.

" _You keep working,_ " Cecilia told me earlier as she reached for her keys. " _I'll run out and get us something to eat."_

I stopped for a moment and looked up at her, and I was hit with this feeling of…of…I don't know how to explain it.

But I _do_ know that I was 404ing for several seconds.

" _Ten minutes, tops,"_ she added, her voice still not as strong as it should be.

And trust me, I know her tones already, so I could tell that this whole Pirelli thing has her shaken. So I made a joke. Something stupid, due to my continuing brain malfunction brought on by that inexplicable emotion. I think it was something about being able to get her dad's high school transcripts in less than ten minutes, which is more than just stupid considering it's not his transcripts we're interested in, and I don't imagine her ever calling a guy like Pirelli _dad_ , but still…she smiled at me, and that tightness in my gut got even worse, and I couldn't stop looking at her as she held up her hand in a wave and then turned and headed for the door.

I couldn't even stop looking after she was gone.

I just stared at the door.

Like I said, major 404, right? Bordering on blue screen.

Because she's just so…wow.

But I managed to shift my focus back to my Mac and I dove into the financials dating back a little more than thirty years.

I was hoping to find evidence of Pirelli being in Boston at the time, or New York, or really, anywhere in the world other than Martinique because we already learned that's where Vanessa spent two weeks during the spring before Cecilia's birth.

And yes, I already tapped the medical records to confirm that Cecilia was full term, so we're working with a fairly accurate date of conception. It was most definitely a spring break hook-up.

And as I sat there, my left brain decoding the Pirelli riddle and my right brain rehashing the exhilarating death of my virginity, that's when the feds showed up.

" _Agents Blanks and Firkins with the FBI. May we come in?"_

For a split second, I wanted to let them in. I wanted to tell them that I'm _one_ of them. I'm a fellow fed. But considering their matching dour expressions, I decided they wouldn't care.

Because something serious was about to go down.

" _No,"_ I answered carefully. " _What can I do for you?"_

I kept my body in the doorway, blocking their view of the rest of the room, although why, I'm not sure.

Cecilia isn't a criminal.

There's no evidence of anything in the room behind me.

But I still felt the urge to protect her.

" _This is the home of Cecilia Chambers?"_ the one named Blanks asked.

" _Yes, but she's not here."_

" _We'd like to come in and wait."_

" _No, I don't think so."_

" _And you are…"_

" _Her friend,"_ I said ambiguously as I stood up a little taller and resisted the urge to adjust my glasses. " _What do you want?"_

" _We need to speak with Ms. Chambers. Unless…has she been home at all today?"_ Firkins questioned as he eyed me with heavy scrutiny.

" _No,"_ I lied, because now I'm starting to get an inkling of what might be going on.

And not that it's relevant, but I'm also thinking I might throw up.

And I can't be sure how long ago Cecilia left because I tend to lose all track of time when it's just me and my Mac, but I _do_ know that I don't want to subject her to what seems to be a rapidly devolving situation.

Firkins put a firm hand on the door, as though he thought I might try to close it on him, and then he said, " _Sir, you need to come with us."_

" _Do you have a warrant?_ " I asked bravely.

" _For computer hacking and digital espionage?"_ Blanks retorted with a cocky smirk.

And that's kind of when I lost my stones.

They know I was hacking. How? Not that I really made much of an effort to cover my tracks, but _still_ …I can't go back to prison.

" _Look, son,_ " Firkins stated, reverting to what he probably considered a soothing tone. " _You have two choices. You can come with us right now, just to answer a few questions, or we're going to park ourselves outside this door until Ms. Chambers returns, and then we'll take_ _ **her**_ _in for questioning."_

I suppose I have to give him credit for his astute assessment of my reticence to have Cecilia get into any kind of trouble.

" _Fine_ ," I agreed as I squeezed through the door and pulled it closed behind me. " _Let's go._ "

On the drive to the field office, I told them that they'd made a mistake. That I work for the FBI, too. They thought that was pretty funny.

" _What's your name?"_ Blanks finally asked, his cell phone in his hand as though prepared to follow up on my claim.

" _Mulder,"_ I responded out of habit, and then I corrected myself. " _I mean, Norman. Norman Meyerstein."_

" _So tell us, Norman,"_ Firkins asked. " _We're really supposed to believe that the FBI would hire a guy like you?"_

" _Why not? I believe that you two somehow made it through the academy,"_ I fired back, not liking his condescending tone or his blatant disbelief.

Why's it so hard to believe I work for the Bureau?

" _That smartass attitude is only going to get you into more trouble."_

" _That would imply that I'm_ _ **in**_ _trouble already,"_ I retorted.

" _Norman, you're in the back seat of a car driven by federal agents. I think the trouble is fairly evident."_

" _I didn't do anything wrong,"_ I insisted, although I know that's a lie.

I hacked a bank. And CODIS. And medical records. Hotel records.

The list goes on and on.

Not to mention the fact that if they run my name through the system, they'll find out about my previous criminal record.

For computer hacking and digital espionage.

It's bogus, of course.

Well, the espionage part.

I didn't sell secrets to anyone.

I just _looked_.

And this thing today…it's not the same thing.

I mean, it _is_ , but…

Blanks and Firkins started a dialogue between themselves, so I leaned back against the seat. I felt for my phone in my pocket, but it wasn't there.

Damn.

It's on the coffee table, next to my Mac.

But that's fine.

They have to give me a phone call, right? I mean, that's the law.

Although I'm not under arrest, so maybe they don't have to let me.

But if I'm not under arrest, then they can't _keep_ me from making a phone call, right?

So then I'll call Lupo, and…

No, I can't call him. He'll drive a hundred miles an hour to get up here.

Besides, I don't want him to think I can't take care of myself.

So…I'll call Bobby. They might still be in Boston, and then…

And then they'll come and save the day and they'll tell Lupo about it and then he'll _still_ think I can't take care of myself.

That's when I had my brilliant idea that turned out to be a major screw up.

I decided to call Hayes.

She's in California, so she won't even consider coming to my rescue, but she might offer me some good advice, and if I ask, she might even agree not to tell Lupo.

She's pretty cool like that.

" _So tell us again how you work for the FBI,"_ Firkins said as he led the way to a conference room.

" _I do,"_ I insisted. " _Actually, I start tomorrow."_

" _Then you have your ID, right?"_

" _Not with me. Can't you just look it up?"_

" _I did,"_ Blanks said as he pinned me with a stare. " _There's no record of you in the system."_

Great.

The square wheels of bureaucracy.

I'll probably be there six months before they update the database.

And of course, it doesn't help that my first response to _what's your name_ was the wrong name, the one _not_ on the driver's license in my pocket, which means they're probably about to add identity theft to the list of pending charges.

Especially since even _I_ don't think I look like the guy in the photo. I mean, it was taken when I was Norman. About eight months ago, but a lifetime ago, you know what I'm saying?

" _So,"_ Blanks continued. " _Why don't you have a seat and tell us what you were doing accessing the banking records of Giovanni Pirelli?"_

" _No, first I want to make a phone call,"_ I said firmly.

They looked surprised but then Firkins shrugged and said, " _Okay. Make it_."

Both of them crossed their arms over their chests and stared at me, so then I said, _"I don't have my phone."_

Blanks sighed heavily and rolled his eyes but then pulled out his phone and set it on the table in front of me, so I picked it up and dialed Hayes.

" _Lauren Bernard,_ " she answered crisply, and even though I'd heard she got married to Bernard because of Jeremy's succinct text – _**Dude,**_ _**one more ten off the market! Hayes and Bernard did the deed…I'm in mourning!**_ \- the fact that she didn't answer as _Hayes_ still had my gears jamming so much that she finally said, " _Hello?"_

" _It's me,"_ I said at last. _"I'm…um…it's…_ "

I couldn't figure out where to start.

 _I got picked up by the FBI…_

But apparently, _she_ knew where to start.

" _Mulder! I've been trying to reach you. Are you okay? Are you still in Boston?"_

" _Yeah."_

Aside from the fact that my bandwidth's maxed, I can still tell that something's wrong, so I waited to hear what she had to say.

Because why would she be trying to reach me?

" _You need to be careful when you go home. Flowers escaped, and he's most likely looking for me, so…well, you know."_

" _If he manages to find an address for you, it'll most likely point him to me,"_ I finished, ignoring the fact that Mutt and Jeff are hanging on my every word.

" _Right,"_ she said softly. " _I mean, I don't think he'd actually do anything, once he realizes I don't live there anymore, but…"_

" _Hey, I'm golden,"_ I assured her. " _Don't worry about me."_

" _But I do."_

" _I'll be careful, I promise."_

I hung up with her without a word about my predicament.

Which means I totally wasted my call.

So see why I say I screwed up?

Because now I'm in custody and I've used my phone call and there isn't a soul on earth who knows where I am.

These guys could throw me back in the clink for eternity and no one would be the wiser.

But aside from that, I _still_ think I did the right thing. Because I mean, if Flowers escaped, then Lauren has enough on her mind without me amping up the batch file, right?

Besides, if I can just get one of these guys to call Agent Stern, then he'll confirm that I'm one of the good guys, and then I can get the hell out of here.

Unless…will Agent Stern be ticked that I was hacking off duty?

I mean, he did mention that I should stick to only digging into things as part of my job description, but he also kind of winked at me when he said it because he _knows_ what I am and he has to know that it'd be like asking me not to _breathe_ , you know?

So if he'll at least just say, _yeah this crazy Mulder dude is one of ours_ then this whole day will go a lot differently.

But Agent Stern's phone went to voice mail, and Firkins and Blanks were getting antsy to pump me for information, so I ended up spending four hours in a conference room playing verbal dodge ball with a couple of wannabe pros, who in actuality are nowhere _near_ as good as Lupo.

I would've confessed to him in five seconds.

As it stands, I held my own.

Because no matter how much evidence they might have, I'm not about to _admit_ to doing anything.

Because if I do, then they can confiscate my Mac, and if _that_ happens then I may as well bend over and grab my ankles.

Besides, they'd also want to know _why_ I was digging, which means I'd be dragging Cecilia into this mess, and there's no way I'm going to do that.

So as far as they know, I accidentally stumbled into that bank account, and I have no idea who Giovanni Pirelli is.

"Norman, you have to be the most irritating hacker I've ever run across," Blanks said in frustration as we entered into the fifth hour of getting nowhere.

"Good. Are we done?"

I have to admit I'm a little proud of myself. I didn't fold under the pressure, and it turns out I didn't need anyone to come running to my rescue.

"Sure," he responded, and I started to get up from my chair but then he added, "As soon as we get confirmation that you are who you say you are. I'd hate for you to disappear into the woodwork before we get the chance to take another crack at you. And since you refused to let us run your prints…"

If they didn't think to run my name through the system, then why the hell would I let them run my prints, and have their computer do their work for them?

I wouldn't.

So I rolled my eyes and held out my hand for the phone, which Blanks begrudgingly took from his pocket and tossed onto the table with a loud thunk.

Dumb ass.

He's got a five hundred dollar phone and he's letting it bounce like a basketball off the hard wooden surface.

I couldn't resist fucking with him.

So while I was supposedly dialing, I was actually digging into his root drive and playing matchmaker with contraindicated applications.

I almost feel remorseful.

For the phone, not Blanks.

Because in about an hour, this thing's going to be toast after burning itself up in an effort to overcome the little showstopper I just created.

But considering I've wasted my entire afternoon here, instead of going a couple more rounds with Cecilia before getting on a train, I'll get over my regret for the death of a decent phone.

"Forget the number?" Blanks asked sarcastically as I closed the root and went to dial the digits.

I ignored him and waited for Cecilia to answer my cell.

"Hello? Mulder?" she answered in a frantic voice, and it totally wigged me out and I'm working on a three finger salute here, because she sounds like she's about to _cry_.

And here's the screwy thing.

It never once occurred to me that she'd be worried.

I mean, it's just me.

I'm no one special.

I figured Cecilia might wonder where I'd gone, but for her to actually _worry_?

And to be upset by my absence?

I feel like a total douche. I should've just called her the first time.

 _Why didn't I?_

Oh yeah, because I didn't want to freak her out that I'm in custody.

Guess that thought didn't pan out so well.

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry I…"

"Oh my God, are you okay? I've been so worried about you! What happened? Where are you?"

"I'm with a couple of FBI agents."

"The FBI? Because we…"

"Cilia," I interrupted, truncating her name to get it out more quickly. "I just need you to get in my backpack and find my credentials."

"Your…you…" she stammered and then she trailed off and took in a deep breath, but as she was saying, "Sure, I can do that," Firkins was saying, "Uh uh. We need more than an ID badge. It could be faked just like that license in your wallet."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him. "That _is_ my license."

"Let us run your prints, and that'll make it easier on everyone," he countered.

"Mulder?" Cecilia asked.

"It's fine," I assured her. "Um…never mind about the creds."

"Lupo's on the way," she said, again catching me by surprise. "I called him when I got home and you weren't here, and he said he'd come up because I thought something had happened to you, you know because of…"

This time she stopped herself from saying anything potentially incriminating, and I give her points for syncing up so quickly to my train of thought.

"That's good," I said.

Because did I honestly think I'd get out of this situation without telling Lupo?

He's like my dad, only a good one. One who pays attention and cares and gets involved.

"Can you bring him to the field office when he shows up? He can help me get this straightened out."

"Of course," she replied. "And Mulder…I'm so glad you're okay. I don't know what…I mean, if you…if something…"

She sounds like she's about to completely lose it, although I think it's from relief and now I feel even worse for making her worry, so I'll have to find some way to make this up to her, even if it takes me the rest of my life.

I assured her once again that I was perfectly fine, and she said that Lupo was due any minute, so I handed Blanks back his phone and then I sat back to wait.

"You got someone who can vouch for you?" Firkins asked.

"An NYPD detective," I answered smugly. "And an ADA from Manhattan."

Cecilia didn't mention that Connie's coming, too, but she didn't have to.

I know she is.

And maybe it's juvenile of me to find comfort and confidence in their impending arrival, but I can't help it.

They'll walk in here like…like…I don't know because McClane doesn't have a partner, but I just know it'll be a cool entrance.

"And you'll be lucky if she doesn't file charges against you for unlawful imprisonment," I added.

"You're a suspect," Blanks said sharply. "We can imprison you all we want."

"Say that again once she gets here," I replied. "Because I can't wait to hear her response to that."

Thirty minutes later, there was commotion outside of the conference room.

Firkins and Blanks had left me alone a little while ago, and I've been curious to find out if they actually locked me in here, but I didn't quite have enough nerve to get up and check the knob, so I've just been sitting here in this same chair, but then suddenly the door opened.

It was Cecilia.

I got up from the chair and she literally flung herself into my arms, and it hit me again how much I screwed up by not just calling her the first time because I've caused her so much unnecessary stress.

"This is all my fault," she mumbled into my ear as she kept a tight hold on me.

"It's not," I argued.

Not that I mind her enthusiastic greeting.

I don't.

Because it means that maybe she's forgiven me for leaving her hanging all day.

Although I guess she doesn't know that I did get a phone call and I called Hayes with it instead.

Or, Bernard I guess it is.

 _Lauren_ Bernard.

Jeez, this is going to get confusing.

"You never would've been looking into his accounts," she whispered, "if you weren't trying to ease my mind about the possibility that he could be…"

"He is," I interrupted gently, and then she pulled back from me and met my gaze, her eyes filled with tears.

Crap, I'm making her cry again.

"You found something?"

I nodded, but to my surprise, she smiled at me.

"I don't care. I mean, what difference does it make, right? It's not your mom and dad that are here right now, helping you out of a jam. It's your friends. So what do I care if I don't have any real parents in my life? I'm a grown woman."

"That's exactly right," I agreed.

"And I've got you."

"Yes, you do."

And then she kissed me in a way that made me forget about everything that's happened today. The feds and the Pirelli search and the fact that Lupo and Connie drove more than three hours to get here…

Of course, then I heard Connie clear her throat and reality came crashing back.

"Hey, no conjugal visits in federal holding," she said as Cecilia and I reluctantly pulled apart.

I love how she can tease even when the mainframe is fragmenting.

And she looks…totally kick ass.

It doesn't matter that she's in jeans and a sleeveless blouse and tennis shoes instead of a business suit. I bet she still mopped the floor with Tango and Cash.

And she's not mad at me, either.

"Lupo's getting Ross on the phone," she continued as she moved fully into the room and closed the door behind her.

"He had to call Chief Ross? Why?" I asked.

"Apparently Lupo's word isn't good enough," she said with a shrug.

"Since when?" I argued.

"Since the feds think they popped a hacker hired by Pirelli to rescue his money from federally monitored accounts."

"They think Pirelli hired him?" Cecilia asked in surprise.

"But I didn't," I insisted. "That's not why I…I mean, it's because…"

"Relax, Mulder. I know why you did it. _And_ I know why you willingly guided them away from Cecilia's home and sat here all afternoon _not_ answering their questions," she said, and I'm not sure but I think it sounds like she's proud of me. She walked closer to where I stood and then gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "Risky move, but you did good. And this'll all be over in a matter of minutes, don't worry."

And amazingly enough, it was.

Ross must have called and thrown his weight around, and the feds released me to Lupo, on the promise that if they have any more questions for me, he'll make me available to them.

"First weekend away, and you end up in the pokey," Lupo joked as we walked out to the car.

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"Yes, it will," Connie grinned as she tipped her head towards Lupo. "You learned from him. How many times do you think I've had to bail him out?"

"Not that many," Lupo argued, to which Connie rolled her eyes, and the whole time Cecilia was holding my hand, and I just can't believe that this is how this day turned out.

I mean, I missed my train, and an afternoon of…well… _quality_ time with Cecilia. But no one's ticked at me, and Cecilia isn't upset about Pirelli being her father, and Connie's proud of me for protecting my girlfriend.

"I'm a little confused though," Lupo continued. "How'd a master like you get snagged with your pants down?"

"Oh, I wasn't…we weren't…" I began, until Cecilia squeezed my hand and said, "He means, why didn't you cover your tracks."

"Honestly?" I replied, pretending not to be embarrassed about my misinterpretation. "It never occurred to me that anyone would be paying attention. I used some minor distractions, but nothing heavy."

"Did you find what you needed to know?" Connie asked.

"Yes," Cecilia answered decisively. "We're done with that venture."

"So how mad is the chief?" I questioned.

Not that he's my boss or anything, but still…he's the Chief of D's. His sons are my friends. I don't want him flipping out over me.

"He would've been more mad if I'd actually hit that little prick Firkins, which is what I wanted to do," Lupo answered. "But if you're asking will you be banned from hanging with the Ross boys, I think you're in the clear."

We drove back to Cecilia's place, where I gathered my things and then took a moment to tell her goodbye while Connie and Lupo went down to the car to wait for me.

"I'm sorry for today," I told her.

"Don't be."

"No, I mean…I got a phone call earlier in the day, but I didn't call you. I should have, but I didn't think…I mean, I didn't know that you…"

"You thought I wouldn't care enough to be worried?"

I love how she seems to be able to read my mind.

That might be a little scary, but it also saves me a whole lot of stumbling around when I'm trying to make a point.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"I definitely care enough to be worried. More than that, even. I kind of had a breakdown on Lupo when he got here. It was right after you called, and…I don't know. I think I was just so relieved, and I'd been trying to hold it in for so long…it was kind of embarrassing."

She looked down at the floor for a minute, but I'm feeling that blazing sense of _something_ again, and I just have to look at her, so I put my finger under her chin and tipped her head up towards mine until she met my gaze.

"Come to New York next weekend," I urged.

"Are you sure? I know I brought it up, but…I don't want to get ahead of you in this thing, Mulder. I don't want to rush it."

"I'm sure. If you hadn't brought it up, I would have. I really want you to come."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "I'll be there."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Mary**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Mary POV**

* * *

"Cough it up, Austin."

"What?"

It's Monday morning and even though I'm an hour early for work, Jennifer's already at her desk, so instead of going straight to my office, I stopped by to say hello.

I really don't like that our desks aren't together. I'm going to have to do something about that. I know that I'm technically the boss, but she's my partner, and I shouldn't have to take a stroll or use a bullhorn every time I want to discuss something with her.

I flopped down in the tiny orange plastic visitor's chair, the one across from her desk. It takes up most of the nominal space left in her cubicle, and it hit me that she'll actually have _more_ room if we move her desk into my office and share that workspace.

Or maybe I'll just tear down the drab gray cubicle walls and create a more open environment for everyone. Something closer resembling the conference room workspace we used at 1PP.

Or…

"Mary?" Jennifer asked with a small smile.

"Right," I said, getting back on track. "Weekend. Details. Start talking."

"Hey, you're the one who went on your honeymoon, so I think you're the one who needs to give details," she replied, tossing down her pen as she sat back in her chair, settling in for a good conversation.

"Yeah, I was on my honeymoon," I agreed with an eye roll. "So you know _exactly_ what I was doing for the past forty-eight hours. That's why I need to hear about you."

She smirked at me and said, "I think I was doing the same thing as you."

She held my gaze for a moment, but didn't say anything more, so I said, "Oh my God…nothing? Really? No details at all?"

"Well," she began coyly, dropping her eyes for a moment and then glancing quickly around the room before looking back at me and saying, "I know y'all were talking about men in their forties, but God, Mary, I can't imagine him being any better. I mean, it was…"

She trailed off and suddenly looked embarrassed, and that got my curiosity up, so I said, "Hang on," and then I got up and went over to the coffee pot and poured us both a cup.

And I know. We're at work, so we shouldn't be talking about our sex lives, but after spending a sleepless night worrying about those goddamn Albanians and what they may or may not try to do to John, I feel like I need to spend a few minutes thinking about something else.

And honestly, I'm truly interested in how things are going with her and Mike. Because I like Jennifer quite a bit.

Which is strange because I don't have girlfriends. Or at least, I never did. I mean let's face it. Women are catty and superficial and gossipy and underhanded…basically men, but with subterfuge.

And I hate subterfuge.

But I suppose I _do_ have a handful of girlfriends now, none of whom are any of those clichéd things, and Jennifer fits right in with the rest of them.

Steadfast, dependable, straightforward.

And yeah, we like to drink coffee or something stronger and have a quick gab session from time to time, but it's usually only to catch up on each other's lives, so I don't consider that as gossip.

So I carried the cups of coffee back to her desk, sliding one of them in front of her and then sitting down with the other one as I said, "Okay, go."

She hesitated, and then stalled by taking a sip of the coffee.

"Seriously, Austin? You're going to withhold information from your partner?"

" _You're_ seriously going to play the partner card when we're talking about my sex life?" she fired back, but she's smiling again, and then she suddenly started laughing in a self-deprecating way and she said, "I'm such an idiot."

"Well, now you definitely have to tell me. What'd you do?"

"You can't laugh."

"Are you sure? Because I haven't laughed in more than twelve hours, so I could use a good one."

A statement that isn't entirely true, since John has a way of making forget all about the outside world.

Last night, after I threw a temper tantrum over his status as persona non grata with the Albanians, and after we checked in with Mike and got to hear all about the Irish and Mulder – not necessarily in that order – and after we arrived back at the Millennium, John locked the door behind us and then turned to me.

" _Are you done?"_ he asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

And just because I knew I was acting slightly neurotic, doesn't mean I could do anything about it. I mean, it's John. And he's in danger. So I'm just supposed to go on with life and pretend nothing's wrong?

" _Because I'm going to pour you a double shot of something strong, to take the edge off, or maybe I'll just fix you a glass of wine,"_ he continued. " _But either way, I'm going to strip you out of those wet clothes and make love to my wife."_

" _You can't make light of this, John. They want you dead."_

" _So we can't have sex until you catch them?"_

And I don't know why, but his expression of feigned chagrin was making the knot in my chest ease up just a little.

" _Absolutely not,_ " I agreed as I moved closer to him. _"It would be careless of me to let down my guard."_

" _We have security posted out in the hall,"_ he reminded me, and as he made the statement, he moved into my personal space, sliding his hands around my waist and leaning down to press his lips against the side of my throat. " _And even if we didn't, there's no one I trust to protect me more than you. Even with your guard down. Even when I have you moaning in ecstasy."_

While he talked, he continued kissing me and his hands worked their way beneath my damp clothes, and holy crap the man knows how to touch me.

" _John…"_ I said on a sigh, but that was the only word I could think to say because my mind was going into vapor lock, capable of doing nothing but cataloguing the feel of every heavenly thing his fingers and tongue were doing.

" _Damn you,_ " I muttered as I finally gave in to him completely, turning my mouth towards his and kissing him enthusiastically.

" _You love me,_ " he stated smugly, picking me up and walking towards the bed.

" _Yes, I do, although I have no idea why,"_ I replied petulantly as he sat me down on the quilt.

" _No?_ " he asked with a grin, confidently stripping out of his clothes while my eyes tracked over him.

God, he's so gorgeous.

And sweet.

And he _gets_ me.

Obviously, since for the past two hours, I've been a stark, raving lunatic and yet he still wants me.

" _Well, maybe,"_ I conceded as I reached for him. _"But the question is, do you love me?"_

" _So much more than you know,"_ he answered, and then he moved over top of me, pushing inside of me with fervent purpose, as though to punctuate the veracity of his statement, and after that, I was just…completely lost in him.

That's not to say that this morning I didn't read him the riot act, because I did.

" _You're working from home today?"_

" _Mostly. I have a two o'clock meeting on Park."_

 _"Keep Rocco with you,"_ I instructed. " _And don't walk there, let him drive you. And…"_

" _I got it, Mary. I promise. I'll be vigilant."_

And he will, I know, but still…the idea of someone wanting to cause him harm is almost debilitating.

I'd much rather it be me in the crosshairs than him.

"Yeah, you do look a little frazzled," Jennifer remarked as she looked me over. "What's going on? No one should come home from a honeymoon looking stressed."

"Uh uh. We're talking about you first. Now spill it."

She groaned and ran her hand through her hair and then looked around the room once again before whispering, "I told him I love him."

"Why would I laugh at that?" I asked, and then it hit me. "Oh. He didn't say it back?"

I still have no idea why she'd think I would laugh because how heartbreaking must it be to say those words and not have them reciprocated? I know it's been quick with them, but I thought they were on the same page.

If I find out he was just holding out for the sex, I'll find some way to get _him_ sent to Utah.

"No, but it's not what you think," she explained. "I…um…I said it right _after._ It just came out because I didn't know I was even thinking it, but the way he made me feel…I don't know. Like I never want to not be with him, you know?"

She held my gaze, looking slightly anxious and self-conscious as she sipped her coffee.

Funny thing is that four months ago, I wouldn't have any clue what she's talking about. A man you can't live without? They don't exist.

But now I know differently because I sure as hell don't want to think about life without John, so I totally get what she means.

I nodded encouragingly and asked, "So you said it, and then what?"

"Well, I was mortified, of course," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "And then I stuttered my way through an apology-slash-retraction."

"He just let you flail in the breeze?"

"No," she answered thoughtfully. "He offered to strike it from the record."

"He threw attorney analogies at you," I said with a nod. "Trying to put you more at ease about the slip."

"I think so. And then he asked me not to forget about it altogether."

"So wait, you apologized and took it back before he had a chance to respond? How do you know he wasn't thinking the same thing?"

"Come on, Mary. I've known him two weeks. I was overwhelmed by intense sexual gratification and the words just slipped out. I'm _not_ in love with him."

"You just said he makes you feel like you never want to be without him," I reminded her, and I'll admit it. Now I _do_ feel a little like laughing because watching her squirm in denial is kind of entertaining.

Mostly because I can _so_ relate to how she feels. It's tough getting over that hump of accepting the fact that life is better with one particular person.

 _"Never_ might be an exaggeration. How can I know I never want to be without him when I've only been with him for two weeks?" she posed. "I'm not in love with him."

"So you've said," I replied in amusement.

"Okay, new topic. How was the honeymoon?"

"Incredible," I stated easily. "We did all the island touristy things. Oh, and I disarmed two DEA agents using only a fork."

I brought up the incident just to be funny, so that she'd stop overanalyzing her feelings for Mike, but instead it reminded me of the current situation. Not that it's ever very far from the front of my mind, but still…

"And?" she asked.

"There has to be an _and_?"

"Well, obviously I'm awestruck and fangirly over your stellar abilities, but your face clouded over when you mentioned it, so what happened after you wielded the fork? And what prompted you to take them out in the first place?"

So I told her about the additional email, and how I thought maybe the DEA agents were actually hit men sent to kill John.

"We bought their drinks, and I gave them my card," I finished. "You know, like a _I'm sorry for making you look like a chump_ kind of thing. I didn't expect them to actually use it, but when we landed in New York, Agent Winfield called. He's friends with an agent in Detroit."

I paused for a moment, mostly because saying the words out loud is tough. I mean, just _thinking_ about John's name being used in association with 187 makes me nauseated.

But my few seconds of silence gave Jennifer time to fill in some of the blanks.

"The Albanians," she said knowingly. "They're after John now? Why?"

"I'm not sure, unless it's just because he made Demachi and his men look like bumbling idiots, with that sting he conducted. It also resulted in the arrest of Rama, if you recall, so I guess they have good reason to be pissed at him."

"The New York faction," she stated. "Most of whom ended up in jail. So you think Detroit's taking over the vendetta?"

"I'm not sure. I've got the agents going back through the transcripts to find out if any other names are mentioned, and at the moment, all of the players are accounted for in Detroit, so that's a good thing. But other than that, all I really know right now is that they've labeled John as an enemy of the organization."

She nodded, her expression one of dismay and deep thought.

"Do you think they're the ones behind the emails?" she asked at last.

I weighed my answer carefully before saying, "No. I think…it's two separate things."

"Okay. So…we make sure John's protected. And we track the emails."

"That's kind of what I was thinking. I'm going to call Mulder later today," I replied. "Oh, did you hear about what happened with him?"

"No, what?" she responded quickly, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. "Is he okay? Is it Flowers?"

"Flowers? No. Why would you think that?"

"He escaped. Lauren thinks he's going to come after her, and since Mulder moved into her apartment…"

"Oh. Wow, um…I didn't know that, but no. He actually got picked up by the feds while he was in Boston, but he's fine."

"He was arrested? For what? Wait, that's probably a stupid question," she said, finally relaxing a little now that she knows he's okay. "Hacking, right? Whose bank accounts were flagged when he worked his magic?"

"Giovanni Pirelli. Apparently he's Cecilia's father."

"Ouch. I guess I can't bitch too much about what a tool my old man is."

"Ditto," I said with a smirk. "So…Flowers?"

"He was hooking up with a nurse in prison, and I guess she helped him get out. Schmenke's in jail, but he was helping him, too. There were fake documents for Flowers in his apartment."

"At Schmenke's apartment?"

"Yeah."

"And you know this because…"

"It's possible I went by his place yesterday afternoon and took a quick peek," she hedged.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment and then said, "Without a search warrant? Come on, Austin…"

And no, I'm not mad at her, but as her boss, I felt the need to at least offer the obligatory reminder that we can't just break into suspects' homes.

Although I don't blame her one bit, and if I'd been here I would've done the exact same thing. I don't want this Flowers guy to slip away because how will Lauren sleep at night, knowing he's walking around as a free man?

"We didn't touch anything. And we let Detective Benson know, so she's going to get the warrant and go back over there. There's a unit sitting on it until she can take care of it, which is probably right about now," she said as she glanced at her watch.

"Okay, good," I said with a nod. "Wait, _we_?"

"Oh, um…yeah, Mike went with me."

"You took a DA with you on an illegal search?" I asked, my voice raising in pitch and volume, but mostly only due to my surprise.

"Shhh," she responded quickly as she looked around. "And yes, I did. You want to ream me out for it, go ahead, but damn, Mary…you know that Flowers threatened to come after her again, right? We really need to find him."

"Settle down, Austin. I'm on your side. You just…caught me off guard. And Mike Cutter…wow. You know, I'm thinking you shouldn't have been so quick to retract your statement."

"What?" she asked, but I can tell by looking at her she knows what I'm talking about.

"He committed a felony with you. _For_ you," I pointed out. "A guy like him…you're telling me that's not love?"

"I'm saying that…it's too soon. And he just got caught up in the moment because he's pretty pissed about Flowers, too. And…"

"And he loves you," I teased in a sing-songy voice. "Cutter and Austin, sittin' in a tree…"

"Shut up," she retorted childishly, but she's smiling so I kept humming the tune until she threw her pen at me.

I tossed it back and said, "You know, this is crazy. We're three days post-girls' night and we're already out of the each other's loop. Flowers, Mulder…"

"The Albanians," she added. "I'm sure you made John promise to be careful, but I'll feel a whole lot better when that entire organization is behind bars."

"Me, too," I said, my annoyance and fear increasing again just from the thought. "I thought we took care of that last week, but I guess not."

"So when are we going to Detroit?" she asked resolutely.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are we going to sit back and wait for them bring the fight to us? Or are we going after them?"

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Logan**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Logan POV**

* * *

I could say that I went for Carolyn, but that's not true.

I mean, it _could_ be true.

I would do it for her, even if I were strongly opposed.

But I'm not.

Opposed, that is.

Because I actually think it's a good idea.

I'm sick of analyzing and dissecting and discussing, so maybe this'll help me sort through my conflicted emotions.

Like last night when I thought about my dad's ring.

Or rather, John Logan's ring.

I'm not sure what to call him anymore, but still…Carolyn's been hanging on to his ring for me for months. It's always been a symbol for me of what not to be.

An abuser.

I thought that tendency was in my blood.

And I guess it _is_ considering my mother was no picnic either, but now it's not _all_ that's in my blood because Casey O'Grady was a good man.

And yet at the same time, I've been working on the theory that blood doesn't mean much of anything at all.

Blood doesn't make me who I am today.

 _My mother's beatings did that._

So this whole joyous feeling that's taken over ever since I learned the truth…it's pointless, right?

I don't know.

But I _do_ know that thinking about it kind of makes my head spin.

Not necessarily in a bad way, but it's just been too much.

Especially after this morning when Ross came through the squad room to dole out a couple of cases.

" _Where's Bobby and Alex?_ " he asked, glancing at their empty desks while posing the question.

" _Probably breaking the Goren rule,_ " I quipped as I got up from my chair. _"Whatcha got? A case?"_

" _Two of them, actually."_

" _Me and Carolyn are ready to go,_ " I offered.

And we are, but it's not exactly our turn, considering we just wrapped one up on Friday. But still, it's seven-thirty in the morning and the squad room's a ghost town, and if there's a case to be had, why bother with a phone call when I'm standing right there?

But Ross hesitated.

And then he shifted the files, slipping the one on top to the bottom.

" _Um…"_ he began as he glanced in the second folder. " _Yeah, um…"_

" _What, is my security clearance suddenly revoked?"_ I joked, but only just barely because I don't like the way he seems reluctant to hand over a file.

Since when does he worry about who gets what?

He doesn't.

At least, not since we all came back to the department.

" _It's not that,"_ he said on a sigh. _"It's…"_

And then Alex came into the room, and Ross apparently forgot whatever explanation he was going to offer because he suddenly turned towards her and pulled out the underneath file, handing it off to her.

" _ME's on scene,"_ he told her. _"I'm assuming Bobby's here somewhere?"_

" _Good morning,_ " she said with a smirk as she flipped open the folder. _"And yes, he's in the men's room. So what's this? Murder in Hell's Kitchen?"_

And that's when it hit me.

He didn't want to give it to me because the killer might be Irish.

 _Are you kidding me?_

I mean, I know I joked about not working cases involving the Irish mob, but I didn't really mean it.

And I _absolutely_ didn't mean I should have to avoid any case that even has a remote possibility of Irish involvement.

I mean, jeez, I've worked plenty of cases involving alcoholics like my mother without showing any bias, so why should this be any different?

" _I can see why you held out on me, Boss,"_ I said dryly as I went back to my desk. _"A dodgy bloke like me might make hash of it, right?"_

" _I didn't say that,_ " he responded as he walked towards me, looking slightly apologetic. _"I just don't want to put you in a difficult position."_

" _Sure, I get it."_

" _Logan…"_

" _What's going on?_ " Carolyn asked as she entered the squad room and immediately picked up on the tension.

" _Nothing,"_ I said shortly. _"Except that now that I'm the nephew of an Irish mobster, the chief doesn't think I could arrest a Westie if he were a killer."_

" _Mike,"_ Ross admonished, and I noticed how he went from my last name to my first, and how he sounds a little hurt by my accusation, and it hit me that this is probably strange for everybody.

And Ross isn't just my boss, but also my friend.

So maybe this'll all take some time.

And as monumental as this new development has been, I don't want it to define my life.

Because that might indicate that I felt like my life was lacking before.

And it wasn't.

Or at least, not since I've been with Carolyn.

So that's why I decided to spend my lunch break here.

In Skoda's office.

"Detective Logan," he greeted as I entered the room. "You know, I saw your name on my schedule and I assumed it was your wife."

"No offense, Doc, but I'd have to drag her in here kicking and screaming."

"None taken," he said as he shook my hand. "But I had you pegged as the one with the _over my dead body_ attitude towards shrinks."

"Both of us, actually. Only this time talking to someone objective seemed like a good idea, and I know you did a remarkable job with Jeremy Ross, so…well…here I am."

"Jeremy's a good kid," he deflected, and then he waved in the direction of a couple of soft-looking chairs as he asked, "So how's he doing?"

I sat down on the front edge of one of the chairs and Skoda eased into one a couple of feet away.

"Great," I answered. "You'd never know the hell he went through last month."

"Kids. They're resilient."

"When they have a support system," I quantified.

Skoda held my gaze, seemingly surprised by my remark, and then he nodded at me encouragingly as he said, "That's true. Hard to say where he'd be right now if Danny had turned his back on him."

I have to give it to the guy.

He's good.

Because even though I'm here of my own free will, I wasn't sure how easily I'd be able to talk about things.

Or what things I'd want to talk about.

But after two minutes of meet-and-greet, he's got me knocking on the door of my problems.

So I surprised myself by jumping in with both feet.

"My father turned his back on me. More than thirty years ago. And now I find out he's not really my dad. That my real dad was a cop in Boston. And the illegitimate son of Duncan O'Connor," I stated. "So now I'm not sure what that makes me. And it seems like no one else is sure what that makes me, either."

I spent an hour with Skoda, telling him things that I hadn't even known were in my head, and when I left the office, Carolyn was outside waiting for me.

"So how'd it go?" she asked, and I can tell she's worried about me because she slipped her fingers through mine as we headed outside, and since we're working, it's not like her to be so demonstrative.

"That depends," I answered, and I guess it was the unloading of my thoughts that has my mood lifted and my steps lighter.

"On?"

"Well, if my goal was to gain a little maturity and perspective, then I think it worked."

She smiled cautiously as she looked up at me, clearly waiting for the rest of my statement.

"But," I continued dramatically, tugging on her hand as we arrived at the car and pulling her against me so that I could kiss her properly before finishing my remark. "If I was supposed to sleep with him to get a clean psych report, then I might be in a little bit of trouble."

She barked out a laugh, playfully swatting at my chest as she pushed away from me, but I held her tightly and kissed her again.

"It went well," I answered with sincerity. "And I hope you aren't hurt by the fact that I talked to him instead of you…"

"You've been talking to me," she interrupted, with something that sounds like pride in her voice. "And Bobby. And if you want to talk to Skoda, too, then I think it's great. You've had a huge upheaval in your life over the past several months, and if you let it all swim around in your head…"

"It might make me crazy," I supplied.

"Well, you might've missed the boat on that one," she teased. She smiled fully as she stared up at me, and I like that we can just take a moment to be us.

I kissed her one more time and then held out my hand for the keys, which she dropped into my palm, and then I walked around to the driver's side.

"Did you make a follow-up appointment?" she asked me as we climbed in the car.

"No. I don't think I need one. I think I'm good."

"After one session?"

"It was more like…confession, maybe," I said after a moment's thought. "I just had stuff to get off my chest."

She nodded thoughtfully and then reached over and took my hand again.

"I'm so proud of you," she said quietly. "I don't think I've said that during all of this, but I mean it. I really am."

I squeezed her hand in response and started to say something, although I'm not sure what other than maybe just to tell her how much I love her, but before I could give the words life, her cell phone rang.

"Ross," she told me after looking at the display.

"He probably thinks I'm still ticked at him."

"Are you?"

I shrugged as she answered the phone, and then I half-listened to her end of the brief conversation.

"He wants us to come to his office when we get back to 1PP," she told me after hanging up. "The chief's office."

"For what?" I asked in surprise.

I mean, I got called into his office plenty of times back in the day, but not anymore. He's on a different floor, and I think he likes coming down to the squad room for discussions rather than making it official by summoning a detective.

Or at the very least, he comes down and uses his old office, the captain's office.

 _Apparently not today,_ I thought.

I wonder if _he's_ ticked at _me_ for my little outburst earlier.

After my petulant comment, he'd taken a couple of steps towards me, but then Hayes and Bernard showed up, followed immediately by Lupo, and the commotion in the squad room took precedence.

And in the end, Ross handed off the other case file to Lupo and Bernard and then after casting me an apologetic glance, he headed for the elevator without another word.

"He didn't say," she answered, and then she sighed heavily and leaned her head back in the seat.

"Old times, huh?" I joked uneasily. "I'm telling you, trouble follows me."

"If you tell me to get out while I can, I'm going to beat the crap out of you," she said, and I can't be sure, but she doesn't really look like she's kidding.

"I won't say that, sweetheart," I replied as I eased the car to a stop at a red light. I took advantage of the opportunity to lean over and steal a quick kiss. "You're stuck with me now."

She grabbed my shirt and kept me from retreating back to my side of the car.

"Now and forever," she corrected purposefully. "And don't you forget it."

I smiled as she eased her grip on me and then the light turned green, so I shifted my focus back to the road.

"Besides," she continued. "You're not in trouble. You didn't do anything wrong. And if he thinks you did, then I'm glad he called us into his office because I've got a thing or two to say to him."

She's all fired up over the idea of Ross being upset with me.

God, I love her.

But as it turned out, he wasn't upset.

"Come in," he said when Carolyn and I moved into his open doorway.

His new office is spacious and expensively decorated and it has a view of the skyline…and Ross looks uncomfortable as hell in it.

"Sit," he urged as he moved from behind the desk, walking around to lean against the front of it.

I'd considered starting off with an apology for snapping at him this morning, but Carolyn told me I shouldn't because _he_ shouldn't be screening cases, so I decided to let him open the dialogue.

"This morning," he began as he held my gaze. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I thought I was…protecting you, but I realize that it came across as not trusting you."

"Protecting me?"

"Your relationship with the O'Connors is new, and as much as they've accepted you into the fold, I was afraid that a case involving one of their own might instigate…I don't know. Pressure, I guess. To look the other way. I just didn't want to put you in a bad spot."

I nodded, almost amused because damn if Skoda didn't suggest almost the exact same thing when I told him about what happened.

"That being said," he continued. "I trust you to give me a heads up if a case hits too closely to home."

As he finished his statement, he reached back and picked up a file from his desk.

"This just came in," he said as he held it out to me.

I opened it up and saw the initial police report indicating a young woman was found on Staten Island.

"The Island?" I asked with a grin. "Are you sure I won't be biased? Because you know I spent ten years out there, right?"

Ross rolled his eyes, but didn't smile at my joke.

Instead, he said, "Look at the witness statement."

I glanced down at the report again.

 _ **Neighbor reports seeing the victim getting into a black Landrover. Partial plate: NY, 7_ _ JM_Y. Possible suspect due to partial/description match identified as…**_

I saw the name and felt a rush of nausea roll through me as I looked up at Ross.

"Okay, I know I said I don't mind some overlap, but Chief…are you sure about this?"

As I asked the question, I handed Carolyn the report, and I was already going through plausible explanations in my mind.

I guess this is what Ross was worried about.

I don't _want_ it to be this guy.

"Kevin Shaw?" Carolyn said in surprise. "The high-ranking Westie we sent home from Tony Puccio's house a few weeks ago?"

It doesn't feel like weeks ago because I remember it clearly.

Shaw in Puccio's kitchen, holding a gun to the Mafioso's head.

I prevented the murder by throwing around Shane O'Connor's name.

And later…

 _"Use my name any time you like, my boy. Shaw tells me you kept him from some trouble,"_ Shane said to me.

 _"He was reacting out of emotion. He's not a killer,"_ I replied. And then for clarification I added, _"Is he?"_

 _"It's not his style, no. It was smart of you to recognize that."_

But now he's being looked at for murder.

Of an eighteen year old girl.

What's the story there?

And what the hell was he doing on the Island?

"Uh huh," Ross said in response to Carolyn's remark, and he's holding my gaze with something that looks like trust and confidence, and the expression makes me feel good about myself. "So go talk to him. See if he's got an alibi. The partial could be wrong, or the color, or the make, or…something."

 _Or he could be the killer_ , I thought blandly.

Well, if he is, then I'll arrest him.

I'm a cop.

That's what I do.

And just because I thought he was a good guy, I could be wrong. I mean, not all mobsters have hearts of gold, right?

Otherwise they wouldn't be mobsters.

I took a deep breath and got up from the chair and said, "Okay, Chief. We're all over it."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Lauren**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Lauren POV**

* * *

"So what's it gonna be?"

"Sunny and seventy," I answered without looking up.

I know my partner isn't asking me about the weather, but I'm also not in the mood for his teasing.

And that pisses me off.

I should enjoy his teasing.

I should give as good as I get.

But the thing is, I got married three days ago, and yet I don't _feel_ like a newlywed.

Shouldn't I be in a perpetual state of bliss?

And yeah, okay…on the home front, I am.

I mean, I love Bernard.

Desperately, unconditionally, eternally.

Him marrying me is like…like…literally the best thing that's ever happened in my life to date.

He's just so amazing and understanding and intuitive and patient…and okay, so maybe I _sound_ like a newlywed, spouting off everything I love about him, but at least it's only in my head.

And it's true, so…whatever.

But my point is, he's _all_ I should be thinking about right now.

But he's not.

Apparently, there's plenty of room for the asshole Flowers to be rolling around in my head, too.

"I mean…what do I call you?" Eames asked as he tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel. We're currently sitting in the car, in front of the residence of Raphael Sole. He's the obvious suspect in a case Ross gave us about an hour ago. "Hayes? Bernard? Hayes-Bernard?"

I can tell he's trying to be funny, and I want to laugh at him.

I do.

Partly because Eames is a funny guy, and partly because he reminds me of Logan, earlier this morning.

" _So…it's Miss California now, right?"_

" _Why stop there?"_ I retorted, flashing Bernard a quick smile as he and Lupo left the squad room and then shifting my attention to Logan. He was looking a little surly when I walked in a few minutes ago, and that had me curious because he supposedly spent the weekend having a great time with his new brethren. _"How about Miss America?"_

" _Miss Universe,"_ he amended quickly, his voice low and conspiratorial as he waggled his eyebrows at me. " _No, wait…is there a Miss Galaxy? Is that a thing?"_

" _No,"_ I answered on a laugh. " _And I'm none of those things, so you can go with Bernard or Hayes or Lauren or whatever the hell floats your boat."_

He nodded thoughtfully and then went back to work as he said, " _Sure thing, Princess."_

" _Anything but that,"_ I stated.

" _No take-sies back-sies,"_ he said playfully, and then he looked over as Bobby and Alex got up to leave, and the scowl was back on his face.

" _What's going on?"_

I can't imagine a scenario where he'd be mad at those two, but I suppose it happens.

He didn't answer me right away, but Carolyn caught my eye from across their desks and she gave me a subtle shake of her head.

 _Not right now_ , is what that said.

Fair enough.

But I also love Logan like a brother and hate seeing him upset, so I kept him engaged while changing the subject.

" _So I'm wondering about protocol,_ " I began leadingly.

" _For what?_ " he asked.

" _How soon do I have to tell my parents that I'm married?"_

" _You mean you haven't told them yet?"_ he responded, and that infectious grin of his was back. He shook his head in feigned admonishment as he said, _"Princess…"_

" _Mike, she's going to hurt you if you keep calling her that,"_ Carolyn spoke up, joining in the conversation. _"And I'll be cheering her on."_

We continued back and forth for several more minutes until we had Logan laughing and then Eames showed up, and Carolyn got a phone call, so we finally got back to work.

He never asked about Flowers, so I'm guessing he doesn't know, which is fine with me. I don't need everyone making a big deal out of it.

It was really nice last night when Jennifer and Mike gave us an update, and then we spent the rest of the evening _not_ talking about Flowers.

Although the lack of discussion didn't help when it was time for me to go to sleep.

I couldn't stop thinking about him, and the things he said when I went to see him in Frackville.

 _Honey, I've seen your face in my dreams every night for the last ten years…you're afraid if I got you alone I might get out of these cuffs and then I'd pin you up against the wall, just like before…_

He's already fulfilled part of his threat.

He's out of the cuffs.

So will he really try to come after me again? Will he risk being captured just to take another go at me?

I almost hope he does.

Well, I think that _now_ in the light of day, with my gun on my hip.

But last night was another story.

I listened to every creak and hum in the apartment, wondering if every little sound might be Flowers.

" _I've got you,"_ Bernard whispered as he held me close. And I don't know how he knew what I was thinking, but his words relaxed me slightly.

And then _that_ irritated me because I'm not the type of person who needs protecting.

 _Or am I?_

Is that how Bernard sees me?

As a delicate, fragile woman whose man needs to shelter her from the big bad wolf?

" _B,"_ I began, hating the shaky quality of my voice, especially since I was going to try to assert my ability to take care of myself.

" _It's okay. Go to sleep. If you have a bad dream, I'm right here."_

" _What if what happens isn't a dream?"_ I posed.

He was quiet for a moment and then he propped his head up on his palm, looking down at me as he moved his other hand into my hair, sliding his fingers gently through the strands.

" _You're worried what'll happen if he comes here?"_

I nodded in response, afraid of how weak I'll sound if I try to speak.

" _If he does, he's a dead man,"_ he replied confidently, his fingers still stroking my hair.

And I love his assuredness, and yet I wish it were _me_ that inspired that kind of confidence.

" _And feel free to make it a slow and painful death,"_ he continued, surprising me not with his words, but with the fact that he meant _I'd_ be the one to kill him. _"Because if anyone deserves it, it's him. And I've got your back."_

He must have seen my surprise because his fingers stalled for a moment, and he asked, _"What?"_

" _I'm just…I…"_ I stammered ineloquently, my mind slow to catch up to the fact that he _doesn't_ see me as weak or in need of protection. He sees me as the maker of my own destiny. And no matter what happens, he's there for me.

I love him so, so much.

" _You're Lauren Bernard,"_ he stated, pulling me fully into his arms. _"And he's nothing. Remember?"_

" _Yes,"_ I answered solemnly.

He pressed his lips against mine for a lingering kiss and then he smiled as he repeated meaningfully, his voice full of wonder, _"You're Lauren Bernard."_

" _Yes,"_ I said again, matching his smile as I finally relaxed against him.

" _God, I love the sound of that,"_ he murmured as he leaned in to kiss me again.

I hummed my agreement and then threw myself into the moment, pushing him onto his back and moving over him as our kiss intensified and all thoughts of anyone other than Bernard were banished from my mind.

Of course, I dreamed about Flowers.

But that was later.

And I guess I didn't scream because I didn't wake up B, so I didn't mention the nightmare this morning, and I did my best to erase the memory altogether as B and I got ready for work.

But now that I've been sitting in the car with Eames for half an hour waiting on our suspect to show, I can't seem to stop wondering what Flowers is doing.

Has he figured out where I live?

Or does he even care?

Maybe he's already halfway to Mexico.

Or maybe he's waiting outside of 1PP, hoping to catch sight of me, to follow me home.

"Are you not talking to me at all now?" Eames asked, pulling me from my introspection. "What's going on? Did I do something I don't know about?"

"No," I answered quickly as I sat up in the seat and looked over at him apologetically. "I'm sorry. My mind was…elsewhere."

"I get that. Honeymoon? Because if you say yes, I'm going to have to beat Bernard's ass, considering the expression on your face."

I laughed out loud and rolled my eyes at him.

"Good luck with whipping B's ass," I said, still chuckling. "But I appreciate the support. It's unnecessary, though."

"Are you sure? Because he might have me by a few pounds, but I'm scrappy," he asserted playfully, seemingly relieved to have me laughing.

"I'm sure. I wasn't thinking about him. It's…something else."

I wasn't planning on telling him about Flowers, but that's probably silly.

I mean, Jennifer and Mike know. So does Connie, and I'm sure she told Lupo. And Mulder knows. Which means Jeremy. So that'll turn into Ross and Liz knowing.

There definitely aren't any secrets in our group.

And that's fine.

I was just hoping to avoid the whole overprotectiveness of the masses kind of thing, and considering I spend so much time with Eames, I know that if _he_ knows, he's going to drive me crazy.

"Hey, is that him?" Eames asked suddenly. I looked across the street at the diminutive man approaching the building, and then glanced down at the DMV photo in my lap.

According to the case notes from the original detectives, Raphael Sole slings dope on Eighth. Judging by his record, he's harmless enough, I think. Or at least he was until last night when he allegedly strangled a client to death, leaving her body in a dumpster behind a meat market. An ATM camera across the street took a snapshot of someone who looks like Sole leaving the alley shortly after the approximated time of death, and that area is part of his territory.

Typically a case like this wouldn't have fallen on our desks, not now that we're Major Case, but once the victim was ID'd as the daughter of a brother in blue, it was pulled from the precinct with jurisdiction and handed over to MCS.

I like that Ross trusts us enough to handle something that has the potential to turn volatile, especially since this is only our second week in the department.

"Yep," I said as I closed the file and put it on the dash and then unbuckled my seatbelt. "Let's go."

"And you're okay?" Eames asked with concern as we got out of the car.

"I'm great," I insisted, and then, in an effort to make it not seem like a big deal, I added, "Oh, hey, Flowers escaped from prison this weekend."

"Flowers?" he repeated, stopping short and whirling around to look at me with concern. "He escaped?"

"Are you having issues with your cognitive abilities today, Eames?" I deflected as I moved past him.

"No, it's…shit, are you alright?" he asked as he trotted to catch up to me.

"You think I'm going to fall apart because that two-bit chicken-shit loser is back on the streets?" I retorted. I pushed open the door leading to the lobby of Sole's building and Eames was right on my heels. "Do you honestly think I'm scared of that cowardly asshole?"

I paused when I felt his hand on my arm.

"I don't think you're afraid of anything," he said quietly.

I took a deep breath and ordered myself to display the courage he thinks I possess, and then I turned around.

"It's nothing, Sean. I just wanted you to know. That's all, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he agreed. He regarded me carefully, obviously wanting to say something more, but then he gave me a crisp nod and said, "So…let's go see what this yo-yo has to say for himself.

Turned out, not much.

Except a complete denial that he was anywhere near Eighth last night.

"We have a picture of you, from the ATM across the street," I told him. "So just be honest and explain what you were doing there and how it can't possibly be you who killed a policeman's daughter."

"I'm telling you, shawty, I wasn't _there_. I don't care what kind of photomagenic evidence you think you got."

Eames caught my eye and smirked fleetingly at the guy's pitiful vocabulary and then he said, "Yeah, sure, Raphael. You weren't there. So where were you?"

"When, last night?"

"No, genius, last month," I retorted, and at his confused stare, I said, " _Yeah_ last night."

"I was with my girl," he stated as he seemed to find his confidence. He let his eyes walk deliberately over me and then he licked his lips and added, "And I mean _all_ night, you know what I'm saying?"

"You're saying it took all night for you to get it up?" I fired back. "I feel sorry for your girl. What's her name?"

"Shit, that ain't none of your business."

"I'm making it my business," I replied, taking a step closer to him.

And I'm not sure why this guy is getting under my skin so much, unless it's because he seems to think he's God's gift to women when in reality he's a dope dealing, slimy-ass little piece of crap.

Or maybe it's just because I'm pissed at Flowers and he's not _here._

"Oh yeah?" he taunted, accepting my physical challenge. "Or what, puta?"

As he said the words, he moved so close to me that Eames sprang into action.

"Alright, hey, hey, hey," he shouted, putting a hand on Raphael's chest and shoving him back. "Are you making a move on my partner?"

"Give us a name, Sole," I said menacingly, ignoring the battle between the two of them.

Raphael glared at me and then smiled in a creepy way as he said, "Malina Juarez. Go talk to her. She'll tell you. I gave her the night of her life."

Raphael's declaration made Flowers' words resonate through my head.

 _That was probably the best night of your life, wasn't it? I mean, I only gave you what you wanted._

Unsettled, I finally broke eye contact, and Eames picked up on my unease. He gave Sole one last firm shove, sending the man backwards several steps, and then he threatened, "We're gonna check out your story, Sole. If you're lying to us…"

But he wasn't.

We paid a visit to Malina, who was at work at a cleaners on Thirty-third, and she insisted that he was at her place for dinner and didn't leave until this morning.

"You buy that crap?" Eames asked me as we left the cleaners.

"Yeah," I said begrudgingly.

"Then who the hell's the guy in the picture?"

"It's dark and from far away," I reasoned. "The only reason why the local precinct thought of him is because it's his usual hangout and there's a resemblance."

"Yeah, I guess we should've known it wouldn't be this easy."

I called Liz while Eames drove us to back to 1PP, but she was in the middle of an autopsy, so I ended up talking to her assistant. It took her ten minutes to tell me they don't know anything yet, so we were pulling into the parking garage as I ended the call.

"Liz won't have the autopsy report until tomorrow," I told him as we got out of the car.

"Okay. So what next? Full workup on our vic?"

"Uh huh," I agreed. "If we request it now, it'll be on our desks in the morning, and we can start from scratch."

That's the downside to taking over a case after all of the preliminaries have been done. The original detectives might not have done a thorough job, especially if they had a preconceived notion of who the killer might be.

So now we'll be starting fresh, more than thirty-six hours _after_ the fact.

But I suppose on the flip side, if their hunch had been right, we would've wrapped up our case in less than a day, so…that's just how it goes sometimes.

"So after we do this, will it be Miller time?" I posed as we got off the elevator and walked across the squad room. "I mean, since our sure thing suddenly _isn't_ …"

"Yeah, let's go get a drink. Unless you think your husband will be jealous," he teased, and I'm really glad that he hasn't asked about my mood swings when we were interviewing Sole, nor has he said anything else about Flowers.

"Jealous of you?" I asked on a laugh.

"Hey, I have a certain something…you know, a quality."

"You have a quality," I conceded, still chuckling at him. "I'm just not sure it's a _good_ quality."

"Ha ha, Detective Hayes-Bernard," he joked, and then he continued on, saying something about my defective powers of perception, but I tuned him out because of the message on my desk.

It was just a standard piece of paper, a small pink rectangle used for taking phone messages.

Not any cause for alarm, right?

Wrong.

My name was at the top.

Just Lauren Hayes.

Not _detective_ , which is unusual considering the person called me at work.

That was the first thing that caught my attention, and the second thing was that the _call from_ line was blank.

Who leaves a message without leaving a name?

I know exactly who.

Which is why the message itself had my stomach tied up in knots.

 _ **Miss me? Don't worry – I'll see you soon.**_

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Bobby**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Bobby POV**

* * *

"So how's the case coming?"

Logan's question was posed as he sat heavily in the chair next to me, and his eyes were still on his wife, who's at the bar with Alex.

We just got to Steve-O's a few minutes ago, and it seems like we beat everyone else here, so we pushed a few tables together and now it's time to relax.

Funny how much I feel I _need_ the relaxation, considering it's only Monday.

I mean, I used to work for weeks…months, really, without a break. Time away from the squad room didn't mean I wasn't thinking about cases or reading files or doing something work related.

Of course, that was before Alex.

Now as much as we live for the job, what's more important is the time we can carve away for ourselves, whether it's with friends or just the two of us.

"A non-starter," I answered as Alex and Carolyn got back, each of them carrying two glasses of beer. "Well, technically."

"Technically?"

"COD was a self-inflicted overdose," I explained.

"Ha," Logan responded as he shook his head. "Figures."

"What?"

"Definitely not worth me getting upset over, huh?"

"You mean because Ross gave it to us instead of you?" Alex questioned. "You know he didn't…"

"I know," Logan interrupted, and I'm glad to see that he truly seems to understand Ross' motive for withholding that case. It wasn't about lack of trust or prejudice about his new family, but just simply concern for Logan himself.

"It's just…" he continued, but then he trailed off, still grinning as he looked at Carolyn, as though the two of them are sharing a secret. And then I guess he silently told her she could spill the beans because otherwise she never would've said what she did next.

"He _voluntarily_ spent his lunch break in Skoda's office," she revealed, and she said it teasingly, but I can also tell that she's proud of him.

Hell, _I'm_ proud of him.

He talked to a shrink?

Already?

Without being coerced or threatened or strong-armed?

He's miles ahead of me when it comes to stuff like that.

Alex reached across the front of me and put her hand against Logan's forehead.

"You don't feel warm," she remarked, working hard to hold back a grin. "But that strep might be coming back, so maybe you should get checked out."

"Funny girl, huh?" he joked. "And don't get too excited. It's not like I'm going back or anything. I just…felt like I needed an objective opinion on some things."

I nodded thoughtfully, impressed with his maturity.

"Did it help?" I asked.

He caught my eye and was quiet for a solemn moment before breaking into a smile again and saying, "Hell no. He's a shrink, right? What does he know?"

"What does who know?" Lupo asked, having just crossed the bar and pulled up a chair. Bernard was right behind him and he sat down next to his partner.

"Skoda," I clarified as I waved to the waitress. "Knows nothing."

"And this is news?" Bernard said on a laugh.

"So what'd you guys get today?" Carolyn asked them. "Anything good?"

"Paint by numbers," Lupo answered easily. "State senate staffer, death by twenty-two."

I sat back in the chair and picked up my glass, always in for a quick solve.

"So…scandal cover-up? Money or sex? No, wait…drugs," I guessed spiritedly.

"You don't get enough of this stuff during the day?" Alex asked as she nudged her leg against mine. "Let the boys work their own case."

But Lupo answered me anyway, saying, "We're not sure yet, but I'm thinking he stumbled onto some shady backroom deals."

"Uh uh," Bernard said, shaking his head. "It's an affair, Lupes. Didn't you see how the wife was shooting daggers at the assistant?"

"Then why isn't the assistant dead?" Lupo argued.

"Because the wife put a stop to it, only the staffer already had the skinny, so he was blackmailing them for a better position," Bernard replied. It sounds like they've had this discussion once or twice already today, but that's the sign of a good partnership. They each have their own idea of what went down, but they'll work together to follow the evidence and find the truth.

Lord knows Alex and I have been on opposite sides of the fence when it comes to theories.

Even this morning, when we went to Hell's Kitchen.

" _You think it's the Irish?"_ she asked me as we made the drive.

" _Ross does. That's why he wouldn't give it to Logan, right?"_

" _I guess. They're going to have to talk about that, though, because if Ross keeps cherry picking, Logan's going to get pissed."_

" _I'm sure he is already,"_ I pointed out. I hadn't even been in the room when the case was doled out, but I can imagine Logan's face if he felt like he was being slighted. _"Maybe we should say something to Ross."_

" _Not yet. Let's see if they work it out,_ " she suggested. " _And as for this case, it's hard to say. I don't even see anything here that indicates why it might be a Major Case. The victim hasn't been ID'd. No COD yet, so no sign of a pattern."_

We still weren't sure once we got to the crime scene.

" _Detectives,"_ Liz greeted us. " _I can't say for sure yet, but I think you might be wasting your time."_

" _Because…"_

" _See this?_ " she asked as she used a glove finger to move the victim's watchband aside.

" _Track marks?"_

" _Fresh,"_ Liz said with a nod. _"As in…hours old."_

" _So where's the needle?"_ I posed as I glanced around.

" _Under the body. Give me another minute, and we'll get her moved, and then you can take a closer look at it."_

Alex and I checked out the vicinity while Liz secured the body on a gurney and loaded it into the coroner's van, and then we met back at the spot where the body had been.

A used syringe was lying on the pavement, the casing cracked, probably from the weight of the victim falling on it.

" _She still had it in her hand…so she was just standing right here?"_ Alex deliberated. " _She burns out the mainline, then bottoms out before she can put it away?"_

" _It happens."_

" _Look at her clothes. Does that outfit say junkie to you?"_

" _Again…"_

" _Yeah, I know. Park Avenue does drugs just like Two Twenty-third,"_ she retorted.

" _I'm not saying you're wrong."_

" _You're not saying I'm right, either,"_ she said with a small smile.

" _Let's find out what was in this syringe,"_ I said as I bagged the needle. " _We'll see what she was doing and if it coincides with the drugs in her system."_

So we did.

She was shooting Fentanyl. It matched up with Liz's findings, too.

" _COD is Fentanyl overdoes,"_ she said on the phone. _"It looks like she's been using it for quite a while, although not always through injection. But still…I'd say it's an accidental overdose."_

So…case closed.

" _Okay. Did you get an ID on her?"_

" _Not yet. No prints on file, but I'm running her face through DMV and Missing Persons. When I get a hit, I'll pass it on to the locals for notification."_

" _Or…"_

" _Or I can call and let you know?"_

" _That'd be great,_ " I said. _"See you tonight, okay?"_

" _Wouldn't miss it."_

I hung up with her and then passed along the information to Alex.

" _Why'd you tell her to call you?"_

" _Because…I don't know."_

" _Because you think I might be right,"_ she said, a smile playing on her lips.

" _Maybe,"_ I conceded.

She looked at me triumphantly and then pulled out the file to write up our notes, and I took a moment to think back over the details.

I mean, Alex made a good point.

Addicts take care of their needles because they aren't always easy to come by, and she was in a public place at six-thirty in the morning…she wouldn't have kept the needle out another second longer than necessary, and yet it was still in her hand when she hit the ground.

And she _was_ dressed nice.

Like Upper East Side nice.

Not that an addict has to _look_ like one, but still…there are a few lingering questions in my mind.

Although even if she finds out the victim's ID, it won't really matter.

Because once the ME says it's not murder, there isn't a whole lot we can do.

Of course, since the ME happens to be walking through the bar right now, coming to drink a few beers with us, I can probably get her to hold off on that official designation for a little while.

"Before you ask, I still don't have an ID," Liz commented as she sat down.

"You think I was going to hit you up for information about a case?" I asked innocently.

"A non-case," Alex reminded me purposefully.

"Right," I agreed. "But still…"

"Your overdose?" Ross questioned. "You're still looking into that?"

"There are a few loose ends," Alex explained. "And you know how Bobby hates those."

Ross smirked as he nodded, and then he glanced over at Logan and said, "This is my payback for not giving you guys the case, right? Bobby's going to make a federal case out of an OD."

"Not a federal case," I argued, but Ross was chuckling as he said, "Tie up your loose ends, Goren. I'll give you another twenty-four hours to decide whether or not it warrants a full investigation."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Liz said smartly. "Does the Chief of D's decide cause of death? Because I'm pretty sure I said self-inflicted overdose."

"She's got you there, boss," Lupo said with a grin. "You might want to think about asking nicely."

"That usually involves saying please," Bernard added.

"I was already planning to do the begging tonight," I spoke up in an effort to take up for Ross, since he was giving me leeway on the case.

Of course, my comment didn't come out exactly as I intended.

Logan barked out a laugh and said, "We really don't want to know about the sex games you and Alex play."

"I meant with Liz," I corrected quickly, and at everyone's continued laughter, I added, "About the cause of death."

"But you're still going to beg later, too, right?" Alex remarked, playfully adding fuel to the fire, and then conversation quickly devolved into a barrage of innuendo.

"Alright," Ross said loudly in an effort to stave off further discussion, and at first I wasn't sure why, but then I saw Jeremy and Mulder approaching the table.

"Don't want to give him any ideas, huh, boss?" Logan joked quietly.

"He heard more than enough last Friday night."

Liz cleared her throat and caught my eye across the table and said, "But in answer to your question, Bobby, yes, I'll hold off another day."

Which means we get to spend tomorrow…doing what? We don't even know who she is yet. Am I just looking for a puzzle when there isn't one?

"Maybe we can trace the Fentanyl," Alex whispered as everyone else started talking with the newcomers. "And talk to regulars in the area. Someone has to know who she is, even if the facial recognition program comes up empty."

I love how we're always just right _there_.

I flashed her a smile and took hold of her hand under the table and then settled in for the group conversation.

We spent a couple more hours at Steve-O's before making the short walk home. By the time we left, the place was packed, mostly with our friends. Lauren, Jennifer, Mary, and John…they all showed up shortly after Mulder and Jeremy. Connie arrived not long after that, as well as Cutter and it was nice to see how at ease he is now with our group.

And yet at the same time, there were a lot of undertones going on.

Lauren was especially quiet, and I noticed Bernard's worried glances.

Mary and John were having a subtle argument, about which Jennifer and Cutter seemed to have taken opposing sides.

"Sounds like Mulder had a good first day," Alex commented as we stood together on the shaggy green rug in the bathroom, each of us brushing our teeth.

"I'm glad he didn't get into any trouble over what happened in Boston yesterday."

"Agent Stern must be one of the good guys," she speculated.

"Uh huh. I guess Mary and John are still battling over how much protection he needs."

"Do you blame her for worrying about him? His name was mentioned three times in two days."

"Hey, I'm on her side," I assured her. "We know how ruthless those guys can be. So Mulder's going to work on the emails, right? I bet he'll have something fairly quickly. They're mobsters, not computer wizards."

She hummed her agreement as she put away her toothbrush, and then I asked, "Can you believe Logan talked to Skoda?"

I'm still having trouble swallowing that bit of information and yet it seems like it did him a world of good.

He and Ross made nice.

He's still upbeat about his family ties.

And he's making headway on his case. It's a sticky one, too, involving Kevin Shaw.

" _He says he wasn't there,"_ Logan told me earlier this evening.

" _And you believe him? You said they have his tags, right?"_

" _Partial. And just because his car was there.."_

" _I know,"_ I agreed. _"Just don't…_ "

I trailed off at that point, not wanting to preach to him, especially considering he spent time in both Ross' and Skoda's offices today.

" _Buy property in Florida without getting a ground test first?_ " he supplied, clearly not at all offended by my implied caveat.

" _Something like that."_

" _I'm walking the steps,"_ he assured me. " _And Carolyn's right beside me, and you know what she'll do to me if I get out of line."_

" _Nothing you won't like, I'm sure,"_ Alex had piped in, and that had him off and running, teasing about exactly what Carolyn likes to do to him when he's been a bad boy.

"Hey, I don't suppose you talked to my dad today," Alex asked me as she pulled out a hand towel to wash her face.

"No, why?"

"It's just been awhile since we've peeked in on the business. It worries me a little."

"We'll stop by in the morning, on the way to work," I offered.

"It's not necessary. I'll just give him a call," she said easily. I'm not sure how much longer we'll hang onto the PI business, considering how well things are going at 1PP.

Technically it's Carolyn's business, so that decision should be up to her, but I know she'll put it to a vote with all of us.

Although it might be kind of nice to keep it running, just as a back-up. Maybe something to keep our minds occupied if things ever slow down at work.

"So where's your money on Lupo's case?"

"You mean am I on board with the ethics violations or the affair?" I asked with a smile. I'm not sure what it is about crime-solving that always makes me happy.

Well, it hasn't _always_.

But it does now.

Doing it with Alex.

"I think it's unrelated," I stated.

"Really? It's just coincidence that he's a staffer on a campaign?"

"Uh huh. You disagree?"

"I like Bernard's theory," she remarked. "The affair, blackmail…it's textbook."

The mention of Bernard's name had my mind thinking back over the evening. How Lauren sat quietly next to her husband for most of the night, not contributing much.

"Oh hey, was it just me, or was Lauren off tonight? Is something going on with her?"

"You mean other than her rapist escaping prison?"

"That guy Flowers?" I asked in surprise. "He's out? Since when?"

"Just this weekend."

"How come you know that and I don't?"

She smirked at me through the mirror's reflection and said, "Honey, there are _so_ many things I know that you don't."

I quirked an eyebrow at her, but as usual, she makes a very good point.

"Connie told me while we were in the ladies' room at Steve-O's," she confessed. "She said Detective Benson is working on a lead, but I'm sure it has to be unsettling for Lauren."

"Not the way to start a marriage," I commented.

"Well, Mike and Carolyn got married after almost getting blown up, so…"

"True," I said with a smile. "And I was still recovering from the baseball bat to the leg."

"Oh, speaking of Jocelyn Moser…Cutter said her appeal is gaining momentum."

"She was forcing girls into prostitution by getting them hooked on drugs and threatening deportation. She really has a chance to go free?"

She shrugged and turned towards me, looking directly at me instead of through the mirror.

"Do you really want to stand here and talk about Jocelyn Moser?" she asked, and she's got that look in her eye that gets my motor running.

"What are my other options?"

"We could go to bed," she posed. "And not talk."

As she made the suggestion, she turned and went into the other room, shedding her clothes as she walked.

I'm thinking talking's overrated.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Cutter**_

* * *

 _ **A/N: Don't get too spoiled with the quick postings - I'm just catching us up to where we were before. After ch10, it'll probably go back to one or two new chapters per week. Thanks for reading :)**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Cutter POV**

* * *

 _Oh my God, I love you._

It's crazy how many times I've heard those words in my head since she whispered them to me on Saturday night.

And each time, I feel that same heart-stopping mixture of fear and excitement and pleasure.

Because I was _so close_ to saying it back to her.

Of course, she retracted the sentiment almost immediately, but still…I'm holding out hope that one of these days she'll say it and mean it.

Or at least, I _was_ holding out hope.

 _At the moment, I'll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again, much less utter words of love,_ I thought as I entered my apartment.

Alone, by the way.

After leaving Steve-O's, she gave me a brusque _I'm taking the subway_ as she brushed past my car.

" _You're going home?"_ I asked as panic filtered through the argumentative haze.

" _What do you think?_ " she called over her shoulder, without even bothering to look back.

And I don't know how things got so far off track, but I'm pretty sure it's my fault, which is why I didn't run after her. I deserve her hostility.

" _You're going to Detroit? Unofficially?"_ I questioned earlier.

We were sitting at the table in Steve-O's amongst a dozen or so of our friends, and yet it felt like we were in our own little world as we spoke quietly to each other.

I hadn't seen her all day, and I _missed_ her.

I mean, sure, I saw her this morning before we left my place, each of us heading for our respective offices.

But that was almost twelve hours ago. And maybe that doesn't seem like a very long time, but we've been together nonstop since midnight on Friday, so it _is_ a long time.

" _Our boss wouldn't approve for us to go,_ " she explained. " _So we're going to take a couple of vacation days and go check it out."_

" _Detroit."_

" _Uh huh."_

" _Off the clock."_

She looked at me curiously and then said, " _If you have something to say, just say it."_

" _Okay. I don't think it's a good idea."_

" _Oh my God,"_ she said with a roll of her eyes, and even though I can tell she's irritated, her use of that phrase had my heart pounding.

 _I love you._

That's how that sentence is supposed to end.

Instead, she said, " _Are you really going to sit there and try to tell me how to do my job?"_

" _It's not your job,"_ I corrected. _"And I'm merely offering my opinion about your choice of vacation destination."_

" _Same thing,_ " she said shortly, and then she reached for her beer, and in doing so, she adjusted her body so that she wasn't facing me anymore. Like she was dismissing me.

" _No, it's not. And I'm just saying you should think about it rationally. You and Mary want to run off to Detroit to flush out the Albanian mafia,"_ I said, leaning in close in order to keep our connection because I don't want to fight with her, and I really don't want her upset with me, but damn…what she's suggesting has me scared to death.

It hasn't been so long ago that I was face to face with these guys.

Or rather, _knocked out cold by them_ would be a better description, but still…

" _So now I'm being irrational? Because I want to help my partner thwart the death threat to her husband?"_

" _You don't even know for sure yet if it's them."_

" _It's them."_

" _Jenn…"_

" _Can we not talk about this right now?"_ she asked, and with that question, she finally turned back towards me, her eyes gray and stormy, and even though she was clearly angry, I had the ridiculous urge to kiss her.

Of course, I didn't.

But maybe I should have.

Because things continued going south from there.

" _I don't know if the emails are related, but I do know that John's name was picked up on the tap,"_ Mary said, our conversation now broadened to include her and John.

" _Isn't Mulder going to look at the emails?"_ I asked.

" _Yes,"_ Jennifer replied. _"Tomorrow, if he has time. He kind of has a job now, you know?"_

" _I know that. But can't you wait until you get more information on the emails?_ "

" _Why?"_ Mary asked.

" _Because if they are tied to the Albanians, and Mulder can isolate the location of where they were sent, you won't be going in quite so blind,"_ John answered for me, obviously as _not_ thrilled about their impromptu trip as me.

" _Right,_ " I agreed. _"And isn't more information better than less?"_

" _So we just wait?_ " Mary asked in irritation. " _What if they're drawing up battle plans as we speak?"_

" _You're giving them too much credit,"_ John said reasonably.

" _Oh really?"_ Jennifer retorted, responding to John but giving me a hard stare as she spoke. " _Remind me how many days it's been since you two almost got gunned down on the front steps of 1PP."_

" _Exactly,"_ Mary added firmly.

After a moment of heavy silence, the matter was dropped, but Jennifer didn't talk to me much for the rest of the time we were there, and she definitely didn't hold my hand.

It was like we were just two individuals instead of a couple.

" _Where is this coming from?"_ she asked sharply as we stepped out of Steve-O's.

" _Where's what coming from?"_

" _You, trying to tell me what to do. Last week, you were understanding of the fact that I have a dangerous job, and now suddenly just because we're having sex, you think you get a say in where I go and what I do?"_

" _I…because we're…no,"_ I managed to say, her succinct description of our relationship throwing me for a loop.

Having sex.

As if that's all we're doing.

Well, maybe it's all _she's_ doing, but I'm doing a hell of a lot more than that, and why can't she understand that I'm afraid for her? And I'm not telling her not to go. I'm just asking her to stop and breathe and think about it.

Because there's a reason their boss said no, and it's probably because he thinks the work is something they can do from here, which is where I'd much rather her do the work because the idea of her chasing down mafia in Detroit has me terrified.

But I didn't say any of that, and that's when she blew past me, heading for the subway station, and now I'm home alone and miserable.

I should've expressed my concern and left it at that instead of arguing with her about the necessity of making the trip.

I should've apologized.

 _Hell, I can still apologize_ , I reminded myself as I looked at the clock.

Ten-thirty.

Forty-five minutes since I saw her last and it's killing me. I can't get her out of my head.

I want her _here,_ even if we're fighting.

I continued to stare at the clock as it loudly ticked off the seconds, and I tried to _think_ beyond my need to see her, to sort out the words in my head.

I was wrong.

I'm sorry.

I love you.

Probably not that last thing, but at least the first two.

And honestly, apologies aren't really my thing. Ask Jack McCoy about that.

I typically stand my ground and obstinately hold my point of view. Even if in the back of my mind, I might have doubts, I've always felt like backing off and apologizing was a sign of weakness.

 _Unless you're flat-out wrong,_ my mind pointed out.

If you're wrong, then _not_ apologizing is the weakness.

Having too much pride to admit fault is one of the four horsemen of divorce apocalypse.

I pulled out my phone, intent on calling her, and then I decided that there's merit to my desperation to see her because something like this needs to be said in person, so even though I only just got home, I turned around and headed for the door.

I don't like my apartment without her in it anyway.

With a full head of steam, dead set on making things right between us, I whipped open the door.

And very nearly plowed her over.

"Jenn," I said in surprise, my heart thundering just at the sight of her.

"You're heading out?" she asked, her expression inscrutable, and I have no idea if she's come over to ream me out, or to pick up some important item left behind, or what, but it doesn't matter because she's _here._

"Yes. To your place," I answered, suddenly feeling tongue tied. "Do you…um…want to come in?"

I stepped back and held open the door in invitation and she dropped her gaze to the floor as she entered the apartment.

"I don't like the way we left things," she said as I closed and locked the door.

"Jenn…"

"No, wait. I've been trying to figure out how to say this, and I think I've got it, so please…let me say what I need to say."

I nodded as the knot in my chest got tighter and tighter because I think I'm about to be dumped and I don't want to let her say the words, but she asked to go first, so I have to respect her request.

She looks so…upset.

And beautiful.

"I don't do this," she said quietly as she finally brought her eyes to mine, and my fear over what she's about to say has me opening my mouth to plead my case, but she said, "Please let me finish."

And then to my surprise, she reached out and put her palm on my chest.

"I don't do this," she repeated, and then she clarified by saying, "Stick around to work through a fight. It's not me. Things get tough, I walk away. Like I did earlier. But…I can't walk away from you. I don't want to."

"I'm sorry," I said as I pulled her into my arms.

"No, I'm sorry," she argued. "You should be able to give me your opinion without it setting me off. I want us to be able to be honest with each other, and it shouldn't start a fight just because we disagree."

I can't believe she's going to shoulder the blame for this, but I also can't let her.

"I shouldn't have been so judgmental of your plan," I said. "It's just…the thought of you going after them on their turf…it scares the hell out of me. Not because you can't handle yourself, but because I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

I held onto her a little tighter, the mere thought of her being in danger making me never want to let her go.

"It's not just because of John," she said, her voice muffled since her face was pressed against my chest. "But because of you, too. Their counterparts almost killed you. Twice. I _need_ to catch them."

"I know," I conceded, stroking my hand over the back of her head. "And if you think Detroit is the way to do it, then you should go."

She exhaled heavily and then eased back from me enough so that she could look up at me, and then she said, "We're not going. At least not yet. You were right. The smart thing to do would be to wait and see what Mulder can find out. He might give us enough information to provide an edge."

I slid my hand around to her cheek, cupping it with my palm as I leaned in to kiss her.

I don't care about the investigation or who was right and who was wrong. I'm just glad that we're okay.

And the taste of her…I don't know how it can be better tonight than any of the other dozens of times I've kissed her, but somehow it is, and I found myself deepening the kiss, suddenly desperate for more…for the scent of her and the sight of her bare skin and the perfect feel of being inside of her.

She tore her lips away from mine and dragged in a ragged breath and for a moment, I had the irrational fear that she was going to push me away, but then she said in a rough whisper, "I need you," and something in me snapped, at both the instant gratification of the statement itself, and at the realization that she went from _want_ to _need_ in just twenty-four hours.

I picked her up, moving us over to the sofa table at the back of the couch, the same one she sat on after our first date. I was almost out of control that night, too, only I'd somehow managed to rein myself in when she said she wanted to wait.

But tonight's a different story, and she's just as desperate as me, and together we worked frantically to get each other's clothes off until finally, _finally_ she wrapped her legs around my waist and I pushed into her with unchecked eagerness, and I didn't slow down after that first thrust but instead kept going and going, again and again, as picture frames fell off the ends of the table and the legs scraped against the floor and the couch was shoved forward until it was almost touching the coffee table and yet it still wasn't enough, so I drove into her even harder and faster until she threw her head back, her eyes closed and her cheeks flushed, and the sight of her – so unbelievably gorgeous – made it impossible for me to last another second.

Neither of us spoke for several long minutes. I just pulled her to me and held her against my chest, and I could feel the thundering of her heart against mine, and I really, really wish this would've been the moment that our lovemaking pulled those three little words from her because I wouldn't let her take it back this time.

I mean, it has to mean something that she had the thought in the first place, right?

And yeah, I could say it first, but I don't want to rush her.

"I wasn't expecting that," she said at last, and I can tell she's smiling and it makes me smile, too.

"For me to be so quick?" I asked with self-deprecation.

"I wouldn't call that quick," she corrected. "Another minute and I think we would've shoved the couch right out the front window."

I chuckled at the imagery, but then came back to her comment.

"So what is it that you weren't expecting?"

She relaxed her hold and looked up at me as she said, "For you to forgive me so easily."

"There's nothing to forgive. Besides, I was on my way to apologize to you, remember?"

She smiled fleetingly and ran her hand through her hair as she said, "Yeah, I'm just…this is so new for me, you know? And after I left you in the parking lot, I couldn't stop thinking that I'd just walked away from the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"That'll never happen," I assured her, leaning in to steal another kiss. "I won't let it."

We went to bed, even though it was still fairly early, and we talked.

About Detroit.

"Mary thinks Demachi must have managed a phone call, maybe got the word out to his brothers in arms."

"Maybe," I mused. "But how would he have known John's name? He was pretending to be Logan at the time, right?"

"I…shit, I don't know," she admitted. "Huh."

"Who else in the organization would know John?"

"I have no idea. I guess it's a good thing we've got Mulder tracking those emails."

We also talked about Flowers.

"What did Benson find when she conducted the search at Schmenke's?"

"You already know," I joked. "Since we broke into his place yesterday."

She shifted a little, tilting her face towards mine, and she smiled as she held my gaze for a long minute.

"What would Jack McCoy say if he knew the truth about his golden boy?" she teased, her voice low and sultry, and I'm not sure, but I think the mood just somehow shifted into something even more intimate.

"I'm no golden boy," I argued lightly as I reached up and stroked my finger along her cheek.

She sighed in contentment, letting her eyes fall closed briefly before she opened them again and said, "What are we doing here, Mike?"

"We're getting to know each other. And we're having fun together," I replied, sounding much more casual than I felt, considering my pulse was in overdrive.

"That's it?" she asked leadingly, and damn if she doesn't look so vulnerable and soft and sweet and I'm not sure what she wants me to say because I'm afraid to push for too much even though with her, I want it all.

I settled for classic attorney ambiguity.

"I think we both know it's more than that."

She held my gaze another beat and then rested her cheek against my chest.

"It scares me," she said quietly.

"What does?" I questioned as I hugged her to me, running my hand over her back.

It took her several minutes to reply, so long that I thought she'd changed her mind about saying anything at all, but then she pressed her lips against my chest and said, "Falling in love."

The phone rang at five-thirty.

Her phone, not mine.

It was disorienting at first, and neither of us moved as her ring tone, a guitar solo of Ted Nugent, reverberated through the otherwise quiet apartment.

It was only after silence once again settled over the room that she sighed heavily and said, "I'd better call her back."

"Mary?"

"Don't you think Stranglehold suits her?" she asked, chuckling as she slid from my embrace and got up from the bed. "It's what I want to do to her almost every day."

"Good point," I replied with a smile, sitting up in bed to watch her walk out of the bedroom and down the hall, keeping my eyes on her retreating backside until she was out of sight.

A moment later, I heard the noise of the coffee maker and then she reappeared in the hallway, with the phone to her ear.

"It's me…what do you think?" she said, catching my eye and flashing me a smile, and then I swear her cheeks flushed a little as she said, "No…not exactly…because…hey, did you want me for something, or did you just call to harass me at five thirty in the morning?"

I got up and walked over to her, pulling her into my arms as she _uh huh_ 'd Mary for a minute or so and then she said, "Yeah, fine. I'll meet you there."

She disconnected the call and tossed her phone on the bed and then wrapped her arms around me.

"I have to meet her and Mulder at Dino's in an hour," she said.

"He's got something on the emails?"

"Sounds like it. He called her and asked if he could catch up with us before work."

"That's good news."

"Uh huh."

In spite of the fact that she's now on a sixty minute deadline to get to a coffee shop that's twenty-five minutes away, and she still has to shower and dress, she continued to stay in my embrace.

"About what you said last night," I began, her words still on my mind.

After she made the statement under the cover of darkness, she said, _"I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to understand where my head is."_

So I didn't say anything then.

But now, I have to.

I want her to know that it's not just her.

But she pulled back from me, talking before I could get the words out.

"Mike, I know it's been fast and it's probably crazy that I'm even thinking along those lines, and there's no way you're there yet and that's okay because…"

"Jenn," I interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"It scares the hell out of me, too," I told her.

"It does?"

"Oh yeah," I admitted. "But you know what?"

"What?" she asked, smiling that slow sexy smile of hers.

"I'm still doing it."

"Yeah, me, too."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jeremy**_


	10. Chapter 10

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

"Dude, check it."

I moved over to sit next to Mulder on the couch, where he had the laptop propped on his legs.

"What are you working on?" I asked with interest, because I know that with him it's always _some_ thing.

And I can just imagine that since he's with the FBI now, his electronic perusals are only going to get more fascinating.

"Death threat emails to John Strathmore," he stated without taking his eyes off the screen.

It's funny how he seems to have matured _years_ just over the past weekend. I guess sex can do that to a guy.

Or maybe it was being arrested that had him fast-tracking the development process.

Although I guess Sunday wasn't his first time.

For being arrested, I mean. He's actually been in prison.

So maybe it _is_ the sex.

I guess becoming a man means different things for different people because losing my virginity certainly wasn't _my_ defining moment.

Anyway, I glanced over at the computer.

And I like to think of myself as a smart guy, but I have no idea what I'm looking at.

"Um…give me the Sparks," I said as I raised the bottle of beer to my lips.

And yeah, I probably shouldn't be drinking on a work night, but this is only my second and it's already after two in the morning, so it's not like I'm going to do much more damage. And I'm not driving or anything, so no BFD, right?

"I deciphered the ippas, right?"

"Ippas?"

"Yeah, you know. IPA. Plural," he clarified with a grin. "You know, IP address?"

"I know what an IP is. But ippas?"

"Sorry. Cilia," he explained sheepishly.

"Yeah, because you need to pick up more confusing lingo," I teased. "You had to find the one girl in the world whose vernacular is more mystifying than yours."

"IPA's. Internet Protocol Addresses. What's mystifying about that?"

"Nothing. I get it _now,_ " I laughed. "So what'd you find? Detroit?"

Even though the heated discussions at Steve-O's between John and Mary and Cutter and Jennifer had been conducted in hushed tones, I still heard it. And I hate seeing them in disagreement about anything. But I'm with Cutter and John on this one.

Going to Detroit without intel, trying to flush out the mafia…not a good idea.

"Nope. New York City."

"Seriously?"

"Uh huh."

"So…the Albanians are in the city? Or someone else? Are they all from the same location? What else can you get from them?"

"Dude, chillax, alright? I'm working it," he said as he tapped a few more keys. "Okay, so…Manhattan. Do the Albanians hang out near Times Square?"

I shrugged and took another sip of beer.

It's late, and I should be tired, and I have to be at 1PP in about five hours, but my mind is racing.

This case, the Logans' thing with Kevin Shaw, Hayes' rapist on the loose…they're all so huge and I wish there was something I could do to help them. I mean, my position as a gopher has me in the know on most everything that goes on in that place.

Well, that, and since I'm related to the chief.

But still, I care about all these people and I don't want to see any of them get hurt. Not to mention the fact that the puzzles are mesmerizing and I just want to dig in and get my hands dirty, you know?

"Didn't Mary say that the mafia members are all accounted for in the Wolverine state?"

"Uh huh," I agreed.

"So…"

"But maybe they _were_ here, when the emails were sent. Or they figured out how to mask the IP."

"Maybe," he mused. He stared at the screen for another moment and then he sat back and reached for his beer. "Dude, can you believe I'm a fed?"

"I know," I smiled. "Sweet, right?"

" _So_ sweet. I spent the day trolling the I's and O's of some Wall Street guy on the hook for racketeering. And I found shit, right? Like seriously damaging shit. So there's that, and then Cilia…she's…she's…"

He trailed off, letting out a long breath as he shook his head and smiled.

"Sofa king, right?" he finished. "And she's coming down on Friday. We're going to catch a bite with McClane and his ten, but maybe Saturday we can double with you and the new chica."

"Natalie?" I replied even though of course that's who he means. I don't date two women at once. Not anymore, anyway.

Although it's probably too soon to say we're dating. I mean, I just caught up with her again this past Friday. We were friends in high school, but not close friends, not the kind who keep up after leaving for college.

But on the way home from the poker game, when I saw her on the subway…I don't know.

It made me forget about my earlier hope of getting home in time to run into any one of the hot women hanging out with Liz.

"Yeah," Mulder said. "Unless she dumps you between now and then."

"Why the hell would she do that?"

"Because you got shit for game, J-man," he joked.

See what I mean? He found confidence in the span of forty-eight hours.

It's pretty cool.

Gratifying, really.

Because it tells me that it's never too late to get your life in order.

Not that I'm old or anything, but still…I worry sometimes that maybe I've already used my mulligan.

"I've got game," I said firmly. "And yeah, Saturday sounds good to me. I'll run it by her and let you know."

We stayed up and talked for about another half-hour, and then he went back to his bedroom while I stretched out on the couch.

"Want me to wake you up when I leave?" he asked me, sticking his head back into the hallway.

"What time?"

"Six-fifteen, maybe. I want to catch Mary and Jennifer before I go to work, to show them what I've got."

I sat up and looked at him, grinning as I shook my head.

"What?" he asked, when I didn't say anything.

"You're gonna chat up a couple of tens before going to work. At the federal building. Dude…" I said with envy.

"Yeah, I know," he said, smiling back at me. "Life is good, right?"

I thought about how Natalie kissed me this afternoon, and how I'll be going to work at One Police Plaza, and how my brother is graduating in five days and then he'll be living here in New York, going to NYU with me in the fall.

"Not just good, Mulder. Fucking epic."

The next morning, which in actuality was only about three hours later, Mulder chucked me with his foot on his way out the door, calling out for me to text him after work, and after taking a moment to let reality sink in, I rolled off the couch and found my shoes.

I spent a couple of minutes straightening up after myself, and then I headed for home to take a quick shower before work, and that's when I ran into Dad and Liz.

Kissing, of course.

I can't believe the amount of action my dad gets at his age.

I hope like hell that's me when I'm that old.

"I'm leaving in half an hour, if you want a ride," Dad told me after Liz said goodbye.

"Yeah, I'm in," I replied, and then I hustled up the stairs to get ready. Twenty-eight minutes later, I was back at the front door.

"Late night?" he asked me as we headed for the car.

"About three," I admitted, and at his questioning eyebrow, I added, "I only had two beers. Mulder was working on tracking the emails."

"And did he find something?"

"Yeah, a little," I answered, and then my cell phone rang before I could say anything more.

"Girlfriend?" he asked as I looked at the display.

"Not even close," I grumbled. "It's Mom."

I debated ignoring the call, but I know her. She'll just pester the shit out of me until I answer.

"Hi, Mom," I said, doing my best to sound pleasant.

And I know that sounds bad but I can't help it.

She's just not a nice person.

"What time are you going to be here Friday?" she asked, bypassing the greeting and going straight to harping.

"I'm working until noon, so I'll be there by three."

"You know the ceremony starts at seven, right?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm planning to be there at three."

"Don't be a smartass, Jeremy. I just don't want you to be like your father and have some _work_ issue hold you up. You know how important this is to your brother."

"I _know_ , Mom," I said through gritted teeth.

God, she gets on my nerves. She always finds a way to insult Dad.

I glanced over at him and not for the first time, I wondered how the hell I ever came into this world. Because that means he had sex. With _her_. I wonder if she bitched at him the whole time they were doing it.

"And please tell me that woman isn't coming with you."

"Woman?" I asked in confusion, thinking at first that she somehow knows about Natalie, but then it hit me. "You mean Liz?"

My mother snorted in derision and said, "Of course I mean her. Unless your father left her and found some other hussy to shack up with ."

For some reason, having her disparage Liz put me over the edge. I guess it's because I understand that she might have anger towards my dad, and I know she doesn't care much for me anymore, now that I've _defected_ , but Liz has never done anything to her.

"Okay, you know what? I'm about sick to death of hearing you talk crap about Liz," I fired back, and I heard my dad say my name, maybe warning me to take it easy, but I ignored him. "She's a great person, and she treats me like I'm her real son, which is more than I can say for you."

"Jeremy," my dad said again, and at the same time my mother started shrieking her reply, but I interrupted her.

"No, you listen," I yelled. "Dad deserves to be happy after what you did to him, and Liz makes him happy, so stop being so goddamn bitter about it and get over yourself."

The silence, both in the car and on the other end of the line, was deafening, and it occurred to me that maybe I took it too far. But I don't think so.

"So yes, she's coming with us on Friday. Aaron invited her because he loves her, too, so if you can't handle that, or if you think you can't be civil when you see her, then maybe you're the one who shouldn't show up at graduation."

I hung up without waiting for a response and then I sat there for a moment, breathing heavily as I reined in my temper.

"I think this is where I should tell you not to talk to your mother like that," my dad said after another minute.

By this point we were in the parking garage at 1PP, and I had a feeling that once he found a place to park, he was going to have words for me.

"Probably," I agreed.

"But that's not what I'm going to say," he said after easing into a spot and killing the engine. "You're almost twenty years old. You're old enough to see people for who they are. Parents should be respected, but there comes a point when they stop deserving it from title alone. They also have to earn it, and offer some in return. Don't you think?"

I stared at him for a moment, amazed and pleased by his understanding remarks, and then I smiled and said, "Yes, sir, I do."

He flashed me a smile, clearly catching the meaning behind my response, and for some reason, this moment right here makes me feel more like a man than ever before.

"That being said, let's not tell Liz about that conversation, okay? I don't want her to second guess her right to be there for Aaron."

"Got it. Besides, I don't want her to know I used a curse word," I said jokingly as we headed for the elevator.

"Good point. I'd hate to see her whip your ass."

"So wait, I'm old enough to stand up to my mother, but I'm still not old enough to use strong language in front of Liz?"

"I don't know. Try it and find out," he said on a laugh.

The thing is, I would never dream of cursing at Liz. Maybe _about_ something in front of her, but I'd never talk to her like I spoke to my mother.

It's that respect thing.

"Oh, so you were telling me what Mulder learned about the emails," Dad said.

"They were sent in Manhattan," I told him. "All of them. And Mary said the Detroit guys were all accounted for there, so…"

"Huh," he said with a nod. "Okay."

"You can't assign anyone here to work on it, though, can you? I mean, it's a federal thing?"

"Not necessarily," he mused. "But we're slammed at the moment. Maybe if we get daylight anytime soon, I can assign someone to work it with them."

The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor, so we said our goodbyes and I went to work.

Making coffee.

Pulling files.

Gathering faxes.

It's menial and I don't get paid a dime, but I love it.

"Hey, Detective Bernard," I called out as I headed for his desk. "You were waiting on something from Aveson for Senate Headquarters?"

"Um…not really," he answered after casting Lupo a questioning look. "What've you got?"

And even though I was close enough to him to hand off the fax, he didn't reach for it. Instead, he was offering for me to read it and give him the details.

I like that about him. Most of the detectives, really. They've started letting me know more about their cases as long as I don't try to finagle ride-alongs.

I glanced over the paper, looking past the _from_ line to see what else the fax entailed.

"It looks like a copy of a hotel receipt. May 12th at the El Rancho Motel in the Bronx."

That caught both of their attention, because Lupo got up and walked around the desks as Bernard took the fax from my hand and together they looked it over.

"Anonymous tip," Lupo mumbled. "Someone's trying to tell us something?"

"Sex scandal," Bernard grinned. "I told you, Lupes. Ready to take a ride?"

Lupo rolled his eyes at his partner's cockiness, but then he nodded and went back to his desk to grab his keys. I noticed Bernard glance in the direction of Hayes' empty desk, and it reminded me about yesterday.

"Oh, hey," I said to him. "I think it's sweet and all that you left your wife a message, but not leaving your name didn't keep the desk sergeant from knowing it was you. I heard him and Sgt Jordan laughing about it, saying something about you being pussy-whipped."

I expected him to laugh at the tease, but he whirled around to face me, his expression stern.

"What message?"

"Yesterday," I answered, and now I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't have said anything. "I was coming through the lobby and Sgt Dean had just taken the message. He asked me to put it on Hayes' desk."

"What'd it say?" he questioned, and I don't know if this is some kind of test, like maybe I shouldn't have read the message, or…I don't know what, but I'm not going to lie.

It's that respect thing again.

"Um, something like…asking if she missed you, and that you'd see her soon."

"What is it, B?" Lupo asked with concern.

"I didn't leave her a message. God _damn_ it. It was him. And she knows it was him, and she didn't tell me about it."

My heart sank, and not just because it must have been Flowers who said he'd be seeing her soon, but also because I think I just got Hayes in trouble with her husband.

Shit.

Now she's going to be pissed at me.

"Bernard," I began as he moved towards the elevator with a full head of steam. "I…"

I trailed off, not finishing my sentence, partly because he wasn't listening anyway, but mostly because I have no idea what I was going to say.

"You did the right thing, Jeremy," Lupo assured me before hustling to catch up with his partner.

I'm not so sure about that.

I mean, yeah, Bernard needed to know about the threat, but if I'd known he didn't know, I would've just encouraged her to tell him instead of ratting her out.

And really, I think all of that's irrelevant.

Flowers said he'd see her soon.

And he obviously figured out that she's working from 1PP.

How long before he makes a move?

And who's looking for him?

The feds?

SVU?

Is it anyone who actually knows Hayes and cares about keeping her safe?

Well, now there is.

Because I've learned a few tricks from all of my new detective friends.

So I'm going to find this asshole myself.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: John**_


	11. Chapter 11

**John POV**

* * *

"Pull over."

"Here?"

"Yeah," I said as I looked through the window, suddenly excited as Rocco slowed the car. He eased over next to the curb and I reached for the door.

"Sir, I don't think…" he began, but I cut him off.

"Just wait here."

"Sir, you shouldn't…"

"Just wait," I repeated sharply.

Because honestly, his incessant harping is about to drive me insane.

For four days, it's been _sir, don't do that_ , or _sir, you can't go there,_ or _sir, you need to stay with me_ …I'm sick of it.

I understand he's concerned for my safety, and I'm sure Mary laid down the law to him, but still…he's _my_ driver. _My_ assistant.

He needs to listen to _me_.

And yeah, he's my friend, too, but right now he's not acting like it. He's acting like my mother, and God knows I don't need one of those.

I didn't need one growing up and I don't need one now.

I got out of the car and bit my tongue when I heard Rocco's door close, too.

I guess I can't bitch too much if he just wants to follow me.

Although come on. Who might possibly be after me on this quiet residential street in Englewood, New Jersey? We spent the morning at the AC office, and now we're headed back to the city, and lately Rocco's been traveling off the beaten path, so…here we are.

And it's completely coincidental that I even saw the sign.

But since I did…

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Rocco mumbled as we approached the house.

"You can wait in the car," I replied.

"No, I don't mean going to the door. I mean, what are you going to say? There's protocol for this kind of thing."

Again, I don't care for his condescending, maternal attitude so I ignored him altogether as a woman opened the door.

Forty minutes later, we were back in the car.

Rocco started the engine, but didn't put it in gear and I looked up to see him watching me through the rear view mirror.

He's mad at me, I can tell, so now he's waiting for further instructions. This is one of those moments when he's subtly letting me know that I pulled the boss card on him by being snippy earlier.

Sometimes that really bothers me but today it doesn't.

I don't think I was wrong.

"Home," I directed.

"Would that be the Millennium? Sir?"

"Yes," I answered on a sigh and then I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.

It's been a hell of a week.

Monday night, Mary and I bickered in Steve-O's.

" _You know, I'd really appreciate it if you'd back me up in front of other people,"_ she sniped at me after we left the bar and were headed for home. " _Instead you teamed up with Cutter."_

" _You were teamed up with Jennifer,"_ I pointed out. " _And since when do you want lip service instead of honesty?"_

" _You honestly think I can't handle myself in Detroit? You know I've done a hell of a lot more dangerous stuff than scout out the motor city."_

" _I'm sure you have. And it's not that I think you can't handle it. I was only questioning whether it was necessary."_

" _To keep you safe? Are you kidding me?"_

She'd stopped walking as she made her indignant response, and I turned around to look at her, hating the argument but still appreciating how goddamn beautiful she is when she's mad. Her blue eyes shooting daggers at me and her brow furrowed, her cheeks flushed and her breathing quick and shallow.

I pulled her roughly into my arms and kissed her, aggressively and eagerly, and I was relieved when she kissed me back.

I love that about Mary.

She can be mad and still be passionate. She can be _upset_ with me and yet still love me.

I mean, I know that's how it's supposed to be, but I always wondered if maybe that was just an old wives' tale.

When I pulled away, I still held her close and whispered roughly, " _You do what you need to do. I've always got your back, okay?"_

But once we were home, Jennifer called and after a brief discussion, Mary hung up and told me that they'd decided to wait for Mulder's conclusion.

She was quiet as we got ready for bed, and once we were under the covers, she snuggled against me and said, " _I wish we were back in Nassau."_

" _Because you weren't mad at me then?"_

" _No. Because I could keep an eye on you twenty-four seven. And because the danger was limited."_

" _True."_

" _Well, and because it's Nassau,"_ she added as she moved up to kiss me. " _What's not to like about that?"_

" _I don't care where we are as long as you're with me,"_ I countered with sincerity. " _So we can go back to Nassau, or we can stay in Manhattan, or if you want, I'll even go to Detroit with you. I mean, whenever you go."_

To my surprise, she actually laughed.

" _I knew it,"_ she said.

" _Knew what?"_

" _You're completely insane. Marrying me…that should've been my first clue."_

We stopped talking after that, and I let my actions speak louder than words, _showing_ her how much I love her, letting her know _that's_ why I married her, craziness aside.

The next day, Mary and Jennifer met with Mulder before work.

" _I think the emails are separate,"_ she told me that evening.

" _Didn't you already think that?'_

" _Yes, but now I have something to back it up. The emails were sent from Manhattan, and we've confirmed that no one from the Detroit faction was in the city on the days the emails were sent, so…it's someone else who doesn't like you."_

" _Or it's just an extension of the same crap I've been getting for years. Some people don't like people with money, Mary. It's just a fact."_

" _And those people don't usually send written threats with that kind of verbiage_ ," she argued. " _Which means now we're facing danger on two fronts."_

" _Or you're overreacting."_

" _I'm not overreacting, and you know it. Why the hell would the guys in Detroit be talking about you if it weren't for real? And if the emails were just about you being rich, why didn't they reference your money in any way other than to say it can't save you?"_

" _You said Cutter asked how the Albanians would know my name,"_ I reminded her. " _Or how Demachi would know it. Or Rama. And the answer is that they wouldn't."_

" _I know, but how does that help? Because if they shouldn't know your name, then how the hell do they?"_ she shouted in frustration. _"Because they think Mike killed one of their men, and Alex shot Demachi, and Lupo outsmarted Brozi, and Jennifer and I put the cuffs on Rama, so why the fuck are they after_ _ **you**_ _?"_

She was off the deep end again by that point, and the bad thing is that she's exactly right in everything she says.

I don't have any answers for her.

" _I don't know,"_ I conceded quietly.

She stared at me hotly, her anger waning because it's not directed at me anyway, and then she said, _"I hate this. God, I hate this."_

" _Me, too."_

" _So, what do we do? You know, we could put you in Witsec."_

" _For death threats?"_

 _"From the Albanian mob?"_ she countered. _"You think I haven't put people in for less?"_

" _Would you be my handler?_ " I asked gruffly as I slid my hands around her waist, hugging her from behind. My intent was to be playful, to get her out of her mood, but she turned serious on me.

 _"No, but I'd go with you. You know that, right?"_

 _"Go with me?"_

 _"Into Witsec. I mean, no, I don't think we're there yet, but if this turns into something…if putting you in is our only safe option…"_

 _"Then you'll turn in your badge and live out your days baking pies in Nebraska?"_ I asked her, holding her more tightly as the magnitude of her offer sank in. " _Mary…"_

 _"For you, yes,"_ she said softly, and as much as I always feel like I couldn't possibly love her more, I suddenly do.

" _It won't come to that,"_ I replied, my voice cracking with emotion. " _You'll get to the bottom of it. A person would have to be crazy to come after me with you as my bodyguard."_

She didn't point out that we don't spend nearly enough time together for that to be a factor, and I didn't point out that I'll never let her leave her job for me. Instead we went to bed and pretended like our life is perfect. Which it damn near is, if not for those pesky threats.

She takes them much more seriously than I, but they're still there, and it pisses me off that we can't properly enjoy our just-married status the way that we should.

Anyway, that was Tuesday night.

Wednesday, I had a new email.

It wasn't overtly threatening, but it was actually worse.

It contained my schedule for the week.

 _"You have a Trojan horse,"_ Mary stated blandly, as if she weren't thrown at all by the latest. " _Give me your laptop so that I can take it to Mulder and let him scrub it clean."_

I didn't argue with her.

But that afternoon, she gave it back to me.

 _"Mulder said you're clean."_

 _"Clean? How can that be?"_

 _"Well, hacked, but not compromised. Who else knows your schedule?_ " she countered.

 _"You. Rocco. Jessica. Maybe a handful of others."_

 _"A handful? That's unacceptable,_ " she said sharply. _"Just me, that's it."_

 _"How am I supposed to do my business if…"'_

 _"John,"_ she interrupted. _"For now, I need you to do it my way, even if that means taking a week or two off."_

 _"I'm not running scared from some asshole out to terrorize me,"_ I fired back. " _I run a billion dollar business, Mary. I don't just take weeks off."_

We stood glaring at each other, both of us angry, but not at each other, and then she finally let out a slow breath.

" _I need to take time off,"_ she said at last. " _How am I supposed to find who's after you when I'm busy hand-holding half a dozen potential Witsec participants?"_

 _"It's still just emails,_ " I reminded her. _"No one's followed me, no one's made a move of any kind…nothing on the wire taps lately…"_

 _"Until today,_ " she said grimly.

 _"What?"_

" _Winfield called me this afternoon. The tap transcription popped with your name, and this time there's a dollar amount associated with it."_

Her news was disturbing, and yet I couldn't be too bothered by it. How many times have some of the others had prices on their heads? It didn't stop them from living their lives.

 _"So, what am I worth?"_ I asked as I reached for her.

This is our thing now, I guess. We get frustrated, angry, scared…and then we hold each other tightly for another night.

 _"Fifty K,"_ she answered, moving willingly into my embrace. I forced out a chuckle, and she looked at me questioningly.

 _"Fifty thousand dollars? I've been worth more than that since I was two,_ " I scoffed playfully, and to my pleasure, she actually laughed.

 _"It's not funny_ ," she said, contradicting her own display of amusement.

 _"It kind of is."_

 _"It's not,_ " she insisted, although she was still chuckling, and then she kissed me, and then we let the matter drop.

Now it's Thursday evening, our one-week anniversary, and I'm just back at the Millennium after spending the day doing my appointments in reverse, to make Mary happy, and I'm wondering if my latest spontaneous action is going to be the cause of another heated exchange between us.

"Do you need me anymore this evening?" Rocco asked as he stopped to let me out.

"No, I'll see you in the morning," I answered. He might still be ticked at me, but I'm not going to apologize for anything. Maybe that makes me an ass, I don't know, but I have more on my mind than him at the moment.

And then because I'm mixing things up, I decided, "Actually, why don't you take the day off tomorrow? The whole weekend, really. I'll call you Sunday evening to make arrangements for Monday's schedule."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his expression softening as though he thinks I'm reacting to his mood.

"I'm sure," I promised. "I'm trying to be unpredictable, remember? I'll just cab it tomorrow."

Ten minutes later, I entered the penthouse suite and was surprised to find Mary already home.

I wanted to tell her about the house I found, the perfectly normal middle-class house with a green lawn and a white-picket fence, but the expression on her face made me hold back.

"What is it?" I asked her, even as she crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.

"It came to me this time," she told me.

"What came to you?" I asked carefully, my anger growing as the implication became clear. "An email? You got a threat? What did it say?"

"It doesn't matter," she deflected.

"Doesn't matter? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, so now you want to take it seriously?" she asked, pulling back to look at me, showing me that she's partly teasing, but I don't care because I'm infuriated at the idea that she's a target because of me.

"Mary," I warned, still holding her but with renewed desperation.

"It's a good thing," she said after a moment, and before I could question how a threatening email could possibly be a good thing, she explained, "Because a United States Marshal receiving a threat is a federal violation. I'm now officially on the case."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Bernard**_


	12. Chapter 12

**Bernard POV**

* * *

For the third morning in a row, I found myself lacing up my sneakers at six a.m.

"You don't have to go with me, B," Lauren said, and I'm not sure, but I think there's some annoyance in her tone.

It's Friday. I found out about the message from Flowers on Tuesday morning, and Tuesday afternoon, Lauren and I had the biggest fight of our marriage. And yeah, we'd only been married four days at that point, but still…it was a big one. Her previous fears about me not being able to get mad at her were most definitely unfounded.

 _"Twelve hours_!" I shouted at her when I ran into her in the parking garage. Lupo and I had been headed out as she and Eames were coming in, and our respective partners made themselves scarce within seconds. " _That's how long you've kept this from me."_

To her credit, she didn't feign ignorance.

" _It was a few words on a piece of paper,"_ she said with shrug.

" _Are you kidding me?_ _This is your life we're talking about, Lauren. How could you not tell me?"_

" _What difference does it make? We already know he's on the loose. We already know he may be looking for me,_ " she fired back obstinately. _"What's the big fucking deal that he left a message?"_

 _"The big fucking deal is that he knows where you work. For sure. That's information I would think you'd share with your husband."_

And maybe I was laying it on a little thick, but I don't care. I've been telling myself that he doesn't know how to find her, so I haven't been paralyzed with fear over his escape, but now…

" _Schmenke knew where I worked from the beginning, so of course Flowers knows!"_ she yelled back.

" _Schmenke knew the 2-7,"_ I said purposefully. " _Not 1PP."_

My statement caused her to stop and think about it for a moment, and I did my best to rein in my temper because I'm not nearly as mad as I am scared.

" _But he_ _ **does**_ _know 1PP, which makes me think Schmenke was keeping tabs on you, before he got picked up,_ " I continued. " _And if he was, then maybe he knows where you live, too._ "

 _"Okay, so…okay,"_ she managed. _"So…what do you want me to do? Hide out in a hotel? Get a bodyguard? What?"_

I moved closer to her, and even though I promised not to violate the Goren rule, I risked pulling her into a hug.

 _"I want you to tell me when something like this happens. We're supposed to share everything, aren't we?"_

 _"Yes,"_ she conceded, relaxing in my embrace. " _I'm sorry."_

 _"Don't be sorry. Be articulate."_

 _"I hate this,"_ she said after another moment. _"I really, really hate this."_

She pulled back and looked up at me, her eyes luminous and so damn blue, and I felt that tightening in my gut that takes my breath away, that one that comes from loving her so much.

" _I dragged you into my private hell,_ " she stated sadly. " _I should've…I didn't mean…"_

 _"Stop,"_ I said gently. " _You aren't really going to revert back to that, are you?"_

She exhaled heavily as she buried her face against my chest again.

 _"I'm struggling, B,"_ she admitted, and I know how much it cost her to say the words. _"I'm not as strong as you think. I'm not as brave…the thought of him lurking around every corner has really gotten into my head."_

I wish I could get her the hell out of the city until Flowers is back behind bars, but I know that's not the answer.

 _"We're going to get him,"_ I promised. _"And when we're finished with him, he'll wish he'd stayed in prison."_

I held her for another moment, helping her get her feet back underneath her, and then we pulled apart.

 _"You're right,_ " she said with a nod. " _Sorry. Just a moment of weakness."_

 _"Sweetheart, that's what I'm here for,"_ I said, unable to resist running my hand over her hair. _"Don't forget that, okay?"_

 _"I know,"_ she replied, finally giving me a smile.

 _"No more secrets,"_ I pressed.

 _"Doesn't do me much good anyway, does it?"_ she joked. _"Let me guess. Jeremy?"_

 _"There's no dust on your shield,"_ I said with a grin. " _Did I mention that I like that kid more each day?"_

She barked out a laugh and then glanced around the garage quickly before laying a kiss on me, something brief yet intense and inspiring.

 _"I love you,"_ she said firmly.

 _"I love you, too."_

So our big fight ended fairly quickly and we reaped the benefits of make-up sex later that evening after work.

But there's still a cloud hanging over us.

Wednesday morning, I went running with her because there's no way she's going alone, and Jennifer's been going in early to work with Mary on the threats to John, so that leaves me.

I'd love to actually hire a bodyguard, like she suggested during our fight - one who likes to run five miles a day - but I know she'd never go for that, and it would make her feel like I don't trust her to take care of herself. And I do trust her. I just wish she trusted herself.

Wednesday afternoon, I made a point to run into Eames in the breakroom.

 _"How's she doing?_ " I asked him.

 _"Hayes?"_ he responded, looking at me in surprise.

 _"Yes, I'm asking about my wife."_

Normally I wouldn't, but it's been two nights in a row that she's had horrible nightmares, ones that have had us sitting up in the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning.

 _"She's a rock,"_ he answered promptly, and then he looked me over carefully and added, _"Isn't she? I mean, is she having trouble?"_

 _"No,_ " I lied, suddenly feeling bad about talking to her partner behind her back. It's just that I'm worried, and this isn't the kind of job that's safe if someone isn't fully focused, but it seems like she is, or at least she's faking it well.

On Thursday, Lupo and I wrapped up our case.

" _That's twenty you owe me,"_ I told him victoriously as I held out my hand. Our killer was the wife, because her husband was having an affair with his assistant, and the staffer was blackmailing them.

 _"You didn't say it was the wife,"_ he argued good-naturedly. " _You just said it was about sex."_

 _"And it was,"_ I said with a grin. _"So pony up, Lupes."_

He tossed a twenty dollar bill at me from across the desks, and then we got started on the paperwork.

 _"So how's Mulder doing with his new job?_ " I asked.

 _"He's loving it. And you know, Cecilia is driving down to spend the weekend with him. We're taking them out to dinner tomorrow night."_

 _"I guess you didn't screw up that sex talk too badly then,"_ I joked.

 _"I guess not,"_ he agreed. He looked at me for a minute, like he was debating saying something more, but then he went back to his work.

 _"What is it? You worried about him with the girl? The doc says she's okay, right?"_

 _"It's not that. I like Cecilia just fine, and Mulder seems happy so far."_

 _"So if it's not that, then it's…"_

He looked up at me again, and then checked to make sure no one was listening before lowering his voice and saying, _"Connie and I are trying to have a baby."_

 _"Seriously? That's great. Wow."_

 _"Bad idea?_ " he asked, and I realized that he almost looks terrified.

 _"You mean do I think you won't make a good dad? Are you kidding me? You'll be great."_

He let out a breath and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair before saying, " _It scares the shit out of me."_

 _"So this is her idea and not yours?"_

 _"No. I mean, yes, she brought it up, but it's been on my mind, too. We talked about it, and we both want it. It's just…we see so many messed up people, you know? And how many of them are the way they are because their parents were pieces of crap?"_

 _"And how many good people do we know who had shitty parents?_ " I countered, because seriously, I could probably name ten in about ten seconds, the first one of which is my wife. " _But more importantly, I can't imagine a better dad than you. I mean come on, Lupes. What'd you do last weekend?"_

He didn't answer right away, so I answered for him.

 _"You spent your Saturday afternoon balling with a bunch of teenagers. Teaching them. Then Sunday, you made an eight-hour round trip drive to help out Mulder, who, as we've established, is basically your kid. You've only had him for a couple of months and look how great he's doing. How much more evidence do you need?"_

" _Yeah, okay,"_ he said, still looking a little uncertain, but I guess I can't blame him. It's a huge step, but I can't imagine two better parents than him and Connie.

 _"Sign me up for babysitting,_ " I said with a smirk as I went back to my paperwork.

He laughed and said, " _Well, we aren't there yet. We still have to make the baby."_

 _"That's the fun part, Lupes."_

He grinned and nodded and then said, _"Keep this to yourself, though, okay? I mean, obviously you can tell Lauren, but other than that…well, who knows how long it will take, and there's no need to have the added pressure of people asking about it all the time, you know?"_

 _"My lips are sealed."_

That night, last night, as Lauren and I sat in the kitchen at midnight after she woke us with another nightmare, I told her about the conversation, and in an effort to preempt any worries she might have about me wishing it were _us_ trying for a baby, I said, " _This is going to be the best of both worlds."_

 _"Them having a baby? Why?"_

 _"Because we can play with the little guy any time we want, and then we can send him back home."_

 _"Him?"_ she questioned, snuggling against me comfortably.

 _"Or her."_

 _"Lupo needs to have a girl. Can't you just picture him, completely wrapped around her little finger?"_

I hummed my agreement, my focus having shifted to the feel of Lauren's hand stroking over my chest, and my eyes slipped closed, the exhaustion from the week with interrupted sleep catching up to me.

 _"I'm sorry I keep waking us up,"_ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

 _"I thought we were done with apologies. Besides, if I were still in bed asleep, then I'd be missing out on how good it feels to hold you in my lap."_

I could feel her smile against me, and she sighed in contentment as she held me closer. We sat there for nearly an hour before she decided she was ready to go back to bed, and this time, she managed to sleep all the way until the alarm.

Which went off fifteen minutes ago, and now I'm in gym shorts and a t-shirt, getting ready to run another five miles.

"I know I don't have to go with you. I _want_ to. I've lost four pounds this week," I told her as I stood up after tying my shoes. I puffed out my chest and patted my stomach, playfully trying to show her just how great I look.

"You don't need to lose any weight," she countered, and I was happy to see her smile at my antics, and then she came over and slipped her arms around me. "I love you exactly as you are. And Jenn said she should be back to a normal schedule tomorrow, so you'll be off the hook."

"Thank God," I joked, hugging her tightly and picking her up until her feet came off the floor, and then I spun her around. "My legs are so damn sore."

"Then put me down," she said, but she's laughing, which is a sound I haven't heard nearly enough of lately, so I didn't put her down. I'll carry her the whole five miles if she'll keep laughing.

"B," she protested, still smiling and not fighting me at all, so I finally put her down and then I kissed her purposefully.

"How about we run three miles, and then come back here and finish our cardio?" I proposed. "It _is_ our one-week anniversary, you know."

"I know," she grinned, tugging on my shirt and pulling me back for another kiss. "How about two miles? That'll give us a few _more_ minutes to celebrate."

"Deal."

We headed out the door, and my legs only groaned a little bit when she took the stairs instead of the elevator.

"You're cutting into my time," I groused lightly.

"The elevator is slower," she reasoned.

"But all these stairs are going to make _me_ slower."

"I like you slow," she said coyly, raking her eyes over me as she said the words, and damn if that didn't make me pick up the pace a little, just so we can hurry up and get back.

She laughed at my predictability, and together we left the lobby and headed out to the sidewalk, taking off at a good clip.

 _This is how happy she'd be all the time if we could just get Flowers behind bars again,_ I thought. The nightmares would fade away again, and she could stop looking over her shoulder.

The FBI is handling the manhunt at the moment, since he's an escaped prisoner, but I don' t know where they are with it. _Maybe Ross will let me and Lupo put in a little unofficial time on it, since we finished our case yesterday_ , I mused, deciding to ask him about it as soon as we get to work.

The two miles passed quickly, and as we slowed to a cool-down walk about a block away from our building, I saw a familiar figure crossing the street, to the opposite side of where we live.

"Hey, is that…" I started to question, but before I could finish, a car engine roared to life, one that was parked in the direction the man was heading, and as we watched in stunned silence, the man dove for the open driver's side window just as the car pulled out.

"Jeremy!" I shouted, running towards him as he first ran next to and then was dragged by the fleeing person in the car. After several yards, he fell, tumbling hard onto the road. Lauren was right on my heels and I heard her suck in a harsh breath as the car passed us, but I only barely registered her reaction, since I was still looking at Jeremy, trying to figure out what in the hell just happened.

"I'm okay," he said as he shakily got to his feet, his gaze still focused in the direction of the escaped vehicle. "I'm sorry, I couldn't make him stop. He saw me looking at him, and then you guys were coming..."

"He?" I asked, still completely confused, and then I turned around to look at Lauren, and found her staring in the same direction as Jeremy.

"It was him," she said somberly. "Flowers. He was here."

"And I got his plate," Jeremy said proudly. "He'll ditch it now, for sure, but it's something, a place to start, maybe. I'm texting you the pic now."

"Flowers?" I repeated, for some reason having trouble computing the fact that Flowers was actually outside our building. And that Jeremy was here.

I grabbed Lauren's hand, pulling her next to me in some much-too-late display of protection, and I noticed the color has drained from her face, and I can understand that because goddamn…as much as we knew he was going to turn up, he turned up _here._ This morning. When we were having fun and _not_ being vigilant.

And what was he planning to do? What might have happened if Jeremy hadn't scared him off?

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked him, my appreciation evident despite my choice of words.

"I wanted to see if he was watching, and I figured he doesn't know me, so it might be easier for me to catch him stalking than say the feds or you, or…or…I don't know."

"So you just happened to be here this morning and so was he?"

"No, I've been here since Wednesday. After I found out the message wasn't from you, and that meant he knew she was working at 1PP, then I thought…well, I thought it wouldn't hurt to see if he was watching the building."

I suddenly want to hug the kid, even though his dad's probably going to skin him alive for doing something so reckless.

But still…I went with shaking his hand.

"Pretty smart, Jeremy," I said. My phone buzzed as the text from him came through, the one with the pictures of Flowers' car. "Pretty damn smart."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Ross**_


	13. Chapter 13

**Ross POV**

* * *

"I thought you were leaving early to meet your girlfriend before work," I said in exasperation, watching as Liz checked Jeremy for bodily harm. He's bloody and bruised, but he seems pleased with himself and completely unremorseful.

"Dad, no one's looking for the guy," he said, and then he grimaced when Liz poked at his side.

"Bruised ribs," she stated quietly as I said, "The feds are looking for him. That's their job. It sure as hell isn't the job of a nineteen year old kid."

"I'm almost twenty, and I'm not a kid," he clarified determinedly.

"Do you realize how dangerous that was? The guy could've killed you, Jeremy."

"He's too much of a coward to go after men," he fired back boldly. "He tries to catch women when they least suspect it…that kind of guy is one of the worst kind out there. I mean, seriously, Dad, come on!"

"If you know so much about him, I guess you know he carries a gun, right? And I have no doubt that he'd shoot anyone who tries to stand in his way."

I meant in the way _of freedom_ when I said it, but once I gave voice to the words, Jeremy's interpretation is what popped into my head, too.

"Between him and _Hayes_. He's not going to stop until one of two things happen. He'll get caught. Or he'll catch her."

Liz paused in her ministrations and she caught my eye, the worry evident, and it's worry for Hayes rather than the minor scrapes and bruises on Jeremy. He's just now over the black eyes from getting punched in the nose on that unauthorized undercover sting, and now he's got road rash on his face and arms, and apparently damaged ribs from going after an escaped felon…I have to admit to feeling some pride buried somewhere underneath my concern.

"I know," I said at last.

"Then what are we going to do about it?"

" _We_ aren't doing anything. _I_ am going to assign someone to investigate the…" I began, and then I trailed off briefly as I decided what to call it before finishing with, "attempted vehicular manslaughter of the Chief of D's son."

"You are?" he asked in surprise.

"You turned it into an NYPD issue, Jeremy. The feds will keep looking for him, of course, but that doesn't mean we can't look for him in regards to a separate offense."

Jeremy grinned fully, and as I looked at him, I realized something else.

"Your mother is going to kick your ass."

"No, she won't," he replied, still smiling as he looked at Liz and asked playfully, "Will you?"

"I will if you pull another stunt like this," she warned sternly, but her gentle dabbing at his abraded skin with antiseptic takes the heat from her statement. Liz has had a soft spot for Jeremy from the beginning, and as much as I love it, I still need to get our point across.

"I feel like we said this the last time," I reminded him. "No more police work until you're an official member of the police department. Are you hearing me?"

"Not without talking to anyone first," Liz amended, which took me by surprise.

"Liz…"

"It's in his blood, Danny."

"Yes, but…"

"I'm not saying he does stake-outs or undercover work," she interrupted. "But telling him no police work is only going to make him hide the fact that he's doing police work. It's the same as underage drinking. Wouldn't you rather know, so that we can keep him safe?"

Her practicality always amazes me. I glanced at Jeremy, who's holding his breath as his gaze is shifting back and forth between me and Liz, and I'm struck by the juxtaposition of boy and man, although if I look more closely, I'm thinking the scales are tipping largely in favor of man, except for the fact that I'm still in charge of his fate in this instance.

"Keep us in the loop," I said firmly. "I'm going to put the Gorens on the case, so you're at their disposal for whatever they need."

"Yes, sir," he said immediately.

"And you don't do anything without running it past them or me."

"Yes, sir," he said again.

"You're all done," Liz said as she stepped back from him, and then she shook her head and said, "Your mother _is_ going to kick your ass, showing up at your brother's graduation looking like this."

"That's okay. Maybe she'll get all of her hostility out on me."

 _Instead of on Liz_ , I thought. That's what he's thinking. How did I get so lucky to have such great kids? And thank God for Liz, for helping me become part of their lives again.

Liz ran her hand over his head and then went to her purse, where she pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen.

"Here, take these. It won't make the rib pain go away, but it'll be more bearable."

"Go home to clean up and change your clothes, and then straight back to 1PP," I added as she handed over the pills. "I'll be over to brief the Gorens on their new assignment, and then don't forget, we're leaving at noon."

Once Jeremy was gone, I sighed heavily and looked over at Liz.

"I'm sorry," she said, catching me off guard.

"For what?"

"I shouldn't have interfered with your parenting. At least, not in front of him. You said no police work, and I…"

"Did the right thing," I finished for her. "I wasn't seeing it clearly, and you pointed out that it'll be damn near impossible for him to stop."

"He's just like his dad," she said with a smile. "So you aren't irritated with me?"

"Not at all. It's not my parenting, Liz. It's ours."

"Who are you, and what did you do with Danny Ross?" she teased, not even bothering to look around the room before grabbing my tie and pulling me to her for a kiss.

"You think the old Danny would've been upset with you?" I asked, trying to sound casual even though she'd just knocked my socks off with that kiss.

"Regularly, and usually for no good reason," she joked. "But this time, you would've been justified."

"We're a team," I said, shaking my head. "Both boys are going to be with us all summer, and possibly longer, so I'm glad we can get this straight now. I value your opinion, and I never mind when you disagree with me about something, and if it's something I want to discuss further, then we can do it behind closed doors. But in this case, you were right."

I was rewarded for my rational, down-to-earth statement with another rousing kiss, after which I reluctantly left the morgue and headed for 1PP.

I found the eleventh floor to be a hub of activity, although it still seems not quite so full these days, without the addition of the four marshals.

"How's Jeremy?" Hayes asked when she saw me. I think she's going by Bernard now, but it's probably going to take a while for me to get used to it. I still think of Alex as Eames sometimes in my head.

I glanced over at her, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness of her skin. She's a beautiful woman, without a doubt, and today is no exception, but the signs of mental and physical exhaustion are still there.

"None the worse for wear," I said easily, not wanting her to feel any guilt about his minor injuries.

"Even after you got your hands on him?" Bernard spoke up.

I looked around and noticed that even though everyone had been working when I came in, now they're all focused on me, so I didn't answer, but instead began getting the rundown.

"Bobby, Alex," I began. "How's your case coming along?"

The apparent suicide turned murder of a woman in Hell's Kitchen. I'd only pulled it into Major Case because of issues I'm having with that local precinct. I want the captain replaced, but I don't have a candidate just yet, so in the meantime, anything suspect is going to come through us. The only thing suspect this time was that the girl was dressed like a socialite, so in spite of no ID, I poached it.

Turned out to be a good call on my part.

"The girl sure had her enemies," Alex began as she reached for her notes. Girl being Lindsay Canter of Westchester, step-daughter of a big wig CEO on Wall Street. Once that ID came out on Tuesday, I've been getting regular calls from the mayor. "She either screwed or screwed over everyone she met."

"Nice. So rather than no suspects, you have too many?"

"We're whittling them down," Bobby said.

I nodded and turned back to Hayes, where she's sitting at her desk, across from Eames.

"What about you two? How close are we to telling Officer Myers that we have his daughter's killer?"

"An hour or two, at the most," Eames answered, waving a paper at me. "We just got confirmation of a busted alibi, so we're about to go pick him up."

"It's him, Chief," Hayes added. "We'll get him to confess."

"Good," I remarked, and then I turned back to the Gorens. "Before they go, bring Eames and Hayes up to speed on the Canter murder. I have a new case I want you two to handle."

"Um…okay," Bobby managed, and his lack of enthusiasm made me want to smile. I know he hates stopping something midstream, but I want them on Flowers.

"Sure, Chief," Alex said purposefully, catching her husband's eye. She's been reining him in for so many years now that I don't even think she knows she does it, but that's okay. I don't mind his reluctance, and I don't mind her covering. I guess I'm really _not_ the old Danny anymore.

"Jeremy was nearly run down in the street this morning, in front of Detective Bernard's home. Unis took the initial report, but I want you two running the investigation."

"Chief, are you sure?" Bernard questioned, looking at me with gratitude.

"Won't be the first time I've stepped on federal toes, so yes, I'm sure," I deflected before turning back to Bobby. "Bernard will give you the pictures Jeremy took. There's already an APB out on the vehicle, and I'm sure he's ditched it, but I have no doubt you'll track him faster than any fed."

"We're on it," Bobby agreed immediately.

And they were. Before I shifted my attention to the Logans, the Gorens were already moving towards Eames and Hayes, with the Canter file in their hands, ready to pass it off.

"We're thinking Kevin Shaw was set up," Mike said to me after I raised my eyebrow at him, silently asking for an update.

"It was his car at the scene, but he wasn't in it," Carolyn said.

"Or at least, we don't believe that he was. But we still don't have a motive, or another suspect, so at the moment, we're spinning our wheels."

I could hear the frustration in his voice. I know he feels like the longer it takes him to find the real killer, the more pressure he's going to feel to concede that it might be Shaw. But Logan has better instincts than just about anyone, and I don't believe he's going to be biased in favor of Shaw simply because he's Irish, so I'm going to let him ride this out.

"Take a step back and go in from another angle," I encouraged. "You were looking at the victim, but try thinking of Shaw as another victim. Look at who might want him pinched. Maybe the girl was just collateral damage."

Before I finished my sentence, they started conducting one of those Goren-like telepathic conversations, and I could see the fresh light of new ideas, so I moved away from them and let them get to it.

"Chief, we wrapped up our case yesterday. The report should be in your inbox," Lupo said to me.

"It was the wife," Bernard added, a smile on his face.

I'm glad he can still smile after what happened this morning. I'm sure it helps that his wife is sitting fifteen feet away, so he has eyes on her, but still…won't be long before she's back out on the streets, and God only knows where that monster Flowers is hiding.

"Yeah, that cost me twenty," Lupo complained good-naturedly.

"You bet against the wife?" I joked, shaking my head. "When politics are involved?"

Lupo shrugged and just smiled at me, and then Bernard said quietly, "Hey, thanks for making this a case, and putting the Gorens on it. I appreciate it. I'm sorry Jeremy got involved, though."

"According to Liz, he can't help himself, so don't feel bad about Jeremy," I replied. "And you're welcome. I'm glad we have a legitimate reason to go after him because I was about to do it anyway."

And then, as I noticed Bernard's worried gaze stray over to his wife, I added spontaneously, "And I'm pulling you from the call-out rotation for now."

He looked back at me quickly, his expression questioning.

"I don't want you getting pulled away, leaving her home alone in the middle of the night," I explained. "Just don't tell her. Let her think you're just that lucky."

"Yes, sir," he said with appreciation.

"Good, okay, so…jump in with the Logans until the next case comes along, okay?"

I spent a few more minutes in the squad room, talking with my other detectives, and then I went back up to my office, to get in a few hours of work before heading up to Albany.

I got a text from Jeremy at ten, letting me know that he was back at 1PP, and then I got one from Liz at eleven forty-five, reminding me to wrap it up.

 _ **You know she'll blame me if we're late,**_ she reasoned. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she's going to be blamed for everything anyway. I just hope we can enjoy the ceremony in peace, and then get the hell back home. Aaron's riding back with us tonight, which says a lot about how anxious he is to get away from his mother.

I met Jeremy in the lobby at exactly twelve, and together we walked to the car.

"You're moving kind of slow," I commented. "Ribs sore?"

"A little. I took some more ibuprofen," he said. But he was still quiet, and I wondered about it as we drove over to the morgue.

Liz was waiting out front, already changed out of her scrubs and into a dress.

I rolled down the window and whistled at her as I eased over to the curb. Jeremy hopped out of the passenger seat, moving to hold the door open for Liz as she got in, and then he got in the back.

"You really look great, Liz," he told her, but again, his playfulness and enthusiasm is absent.

"Thanks," she said, catching my eye and giving me a questioning look. I shrugged, and then in true Liz fashion, she turned around in her seat and said, "Okay, what is it? Did your mom call again? Did you do something you weren't supposed to?"

"No," he promised quickly, and then he straightened in his seat, like he's making an effort to be mature, and then he said, "I got dumped."

"What? Natalie?" I asked in surprise. "When? Why?"

Liz chucked my leg as she said, "I'm sorry, honey. Do you want to talk about it?"

I watched him in the rear view mirror as he responded.

"I called her this morning, when I was on my way home to get cleaned up. I told her about what happened, and she kind of freaked out. I mean, worse than you, Dad."

He met my gaze in the mirror, and I can tell he's trying hard to be okay with what happened by injecting humor into it. I smirked at him, and he continued.

"Yeah, so anyway, she said she overlooked the black eyes because they were mostly healed, but that if I'm going to keep getting into that kind of trouble, then she needs to think about her image and her future, and…well, then I started thinking about what I haven't told her, like everything that happened in Baltimore, and how _that_ might affect her future if she stayed with me, and while I was thinking, I wasn't talking, so then she said if I couldn't promise to stay out of trouble, then she needed to rethink our relationship, and the way she was talking to me…Dad, it reminded me of Mom."

I looked back at him in surprise, but he kept going, saying, "So I told her that I wasn't getting into trouble, it was called doing police work, and I plan to keep doing that until I'm old, and then she said it would be a good idea if I don't call her anymore."

"Doesn't sound to me like you got dumped at all," Liz said reasonably.

"Um… _don't call me_ pretty much means that," he countered.

"I'm saying, you stood up for who you are and what you want to be, and if that didn't work for her, then that's her choice, and it's better that you found out now," she clarified.

I saw the dawning on his face, and I blindly reached over for Liz's hand, completely impressed with how she handled the situation. We're definitely both doing the parenting here. Hell, she's doing ten times better than me.

"Yeah, you know, you're right," he said after another minute, a small smile on his face.

"She's always right," I said playfully. "The faster you learn that, the better off you'll be."

"How long did it take you?" he teased back.

"Too long," Liz said, causing all of us to laugh. "Now hurry up and drive, Danny. Let's see Aaron graduate, and then bring him back home. It's time we had this family all under one roof."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Carolyn**_


	14. Chapter 14

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

"Cat's away, the mice will play, huh?"

I looked up to see Bernard and Lauren joining us at what's long-since been deemed _our table_ in Steve-O's. It's practically a mile long, but we're loyal customers and good tippers, so management doesn't mind keeping other customers away.

For the past fifteen minutes, it was just me and Mike and Bobby and Alex, but I'd guess our numbers will triple over the next half hour.

"Why, because we knocked off at five-thirty on a Friday when the boss is out of town?" Mike asked him in amusement. "I'm pretty sure he'd be here with us, if he weren't in Albany. And I notice you didn't waste any time grabbing your wife to join us."

"Hey, my partner and I closed our case today," Lauren said reasonably. "Well, one of them, anyway. And I don't think we're too far off with the second one."

"The Canter case?" Bobby asked her with interest.

"You work fast," Alex added as Lauren nodded. "How'd you filter through everyone who hated her?"

"We haven't entirely," she admitted. "But we've caught two of them in lies, and it's looking like maybe a love triangle gone wrong."

"Like a love triangle could go right?" Mike teased. "How would that work, exactly?"

Lauren flashed him a smile while simultaneously flipping him off, sparking a few light chuckles from around the table.

"Well, at least someone's wrapping things up. I wish we could say the same thing," I stated. "But we _are_ making headway."

Bernard nodded his agreement, having spent most of his day working with me and Mike going through Kevin Shaw's life.

"Any luck getting those prison visitor logs yet?" he asked.

"Supposedly they'll be on our desk in the morning," Mike answered.

See, we're starting to think Puccio had something to do with the girl's murder, because it definitely looks like a set up, and Puccio was certainly mad enough at Shaw, after that last case. It's our working theory, anyway. And I like that even though Mike and I came up with it, we didn't share it with Lupo and Bernard and yet they reached the same conclusion.

"What about you two?" Bernard asked Bobby. "Headway?"

"We found the car," Alex answered. "He ditched it in the parking lot of the Brooklyn Museum."

"Did you get anything from it?"

"Prints, but that doesn't help us. It was reported stolen two days ago in Jersey."

"Any reports of a car stolen near the library?" Lauren asked.

"No. But it's a short walk to the subway, and there's no shortage of cabs," Bobby pointed out.

"So you're nowhere," Bernard said blandly.

"At this point," Alex replied. "But his face is plastered all over the city. It won't be long."

"Yeah, hang in there, okay?" Mike offered.

I know it has to be tough for Lauren. I just can't imagine. I mean, I can but I can't. There've been plenty of times we've had people on the loose, coming after us and wanting to kill us, but not with the added fear factor that she has, of having already been terrorized by him once before.

"I'm fine," she assured him, but it almost sounds to me like she's trying to convince herself of that more so than anyone else.

We spent a few minutes, mostly in quiet, with just the six of us sipping on our respective beers. My mind was scrambling in an effort to say something to lighten the mood, because it's Friday night and we've all had a long week, and we're supposed to be in here laughing, but comic relief isn't really my forte.

"Can't escape those pesky marshals, can we?" Bernard spoke up as Mary and Jennifer entered the bar, along with John and Mike Cutter. "Jeez, guys, we work one case with you and now you won't leave us alone."

I guess I'm not the only one trying to think of how to make people smile.

Although it doesn't seem like the newcomers are in much of a joking mood either.

"These emails are out of control," Mary said gruffly as she sat down. She motioned to the waitress and then said, "And they're still talking about him in Detroit."

"You know, enough's enough," Mike said suddenly, squeezing my hand a little tighter, which tells me that I'm probably not going to like what he's about to say. "Your DEA contact is willing to work with us, right? He's keeping you in the loop?"

She nodded and asked, "Why, what are you thinking?"

But I'm pretty sure I already know. And I _don't_ like it, but I understand it, and it's the right thing to do.

"Misinformation," I said evenly, as if the idea doesn't make me queasy.

Mike caught my eye, holding my gaze as he added, "Let it leak that John's going to be in Detroit."

"Wait, what?" Bobby asked sharply, at the same time John said, "It's about time."

I gave Bobby a reassuring look, although I'm not entirely sure it had that effect on him, while Mike replied to John, "Yeah, I don't think so, brother. It's my turn to be bait."

A lot of people started talking at once, but I focused on John's response.

"How's that going to work? You're just going to stroll into Detroit and then stand around on a street corner and wait to get recognized? Wait to get gunned down?"

"We use Mary's friend," Mike explained calmly. "The wiretaps. We drop the word that you'll be there, and we listen to the response."

"Flush the rats out of their nests," Bernard added with a nod.

"What is it with you and rodents today?" Alex teased, and now it seems _she's_ the one trying to inject some humor into the evening, but she didn't have any better luck because John's still ticked.

"So I just stay here in my penthouse while you go into the hot zone? With _my_ name tag on your chest?"

"You mean like the time I was on a boat in the Gulf of Mexico while you were shagging Molotov cocktails?" Mike fired back.

"Settle down, boys," Mary instructed, her focus mostly on her husband.

"It's not a competition," I added. "It's about using our resources. If Mike and I can force their hand, then we can stop playing the wait-and-see game. And we'll be ready for them, you know that."

"I don't like it," John stated firmly.

"I'm not asking _you_ to like it," Mike said. "I'm asking Inspector Strathmore. Hell, never mind. I don't want to cause trouble between spouses, so I'll ask Inspector Dunn. Jennifer, what do you think?"

"It could work," Jennifer said thoughtfully. "But I don't like making you a sitting duck. Especially with only Carolyn as back-up."

I raised my eyebrow at her, and she smiled as she added quickly, "No offense. But it's a big city, and it's their turf, and I'd feel better if the numbers were better than their hundreds to your two."

"Sounds familiar," Cutter remarked, and I'm not sure what that's about, because he looked like he was playing, but was maybe a little afraid she might not think so, but she rolled her eyes at him, nudging him with her shoulder before saying, "Who else can go with you?"

"We'd love to, but we just got the Flowers case," Alex said, and I can tell her loyalties are torn. "And that's not one that can wait."

"No," Mike agreed quickly. "We'll be fine. I'm not even sure Ross will like us blowing town, much less anyone else."

"He'll be okay," I said smoothly. "Bernard and Lupo can handle the Shaw case, right?"

"Definitely," Bernard agreed.

"I could take Shaw. I mean, me and Eames," Lauren offered. "We're almost done with Canter anyway, and we can work both if we have to."

Bernard looked at her like she's crazy as he said, "I'm not going to Detroit. I'm sorry, Logan, but I can't leave…"

"No way," Mike and I said simultaneously. "You're staying here."

"No, I'm saying, B and Lupo can take over Flowers," Lauren explained. "Me and Eames will take Shaw. That'll leave Bobby and Alex freed up to go to Detroit."

Everyone was quiet for a minute, and then heads started nodding.

"That works," Mary said, and when John opened his mouth to protest, she interrupted, saying, "It's a good idea. And it'll work. And I'll make sure they have DEA backup, too."

"Okay," he said at last.

"Yeah, because I was waiting for your permission," Mike said sarcastically, prompting a few smiles and chuckles from around the table, easing a bit of the tension.

"Good, so…road trip," Alex said. "Mary, how fast can we get the word out?"

"I'll call Agent Winfield in the morning. You guys make your travel plans, and I'd say by tomorrow night, Mike'll be in Detroit with a target on his back."

"Perfect," John said drolly.

"Meanwhile, we're still flailing with these emails," Jennifer said, ignoring John's remark. "I can't believe how many internet cafes have crappy security cameras. Mulder tracked one of the initiating IP's to a place on Gardner, but they've got cameras with no recording capability."

"So the sender is using different cafes? And none of them have video?" Lauren asked her.

"We only have the one location pinpointed. We know they were all sent from Manhattan, but it's tough to narrow it down to a specific location, the way this guy is doing it."

"Guy," I repeated. "So we know it's a guy?"

"We think it's a guy. The language is concise. And the email Mary got wasn't about competition or jealousy or anything."

"Wait, _you_ got an email?" Alex asked, and all of us shifted our focus to Mary, who glared at Jennifer.

"That's great, Austin, thanks."

"You didn't tell them?"

"It's no big deal," Mary said dismissively.

"You weren't saying that when they came to me," John pointed out.

"I mean, it's a big deal, but not that it came to me, because it was still threatening _you_ ," she said in frustration.

"Well somebody better tell me what the hell it said," Mike spoke up, and once again, I know what he's thinking. We just arranged to go to Detroit to stop the threat on John, but what if something happens to them _here_ while we're _there_?

"Go ahead and spill it," Mary encouraged Jennifer.

"You aren't going to make me feel bad about disclosing to our friends," Jennifer stated boldly, and her remark makes me proud of her. She hasn't been in our group for long, but she already understands the dynamic, and she's right - Mary should've told us, and at the very least, if she wasn't going to tell us, then she should've let Jennifer know it was a secret.

"No, I know," Mary said on a sigh.

"It referred to the fact that she should think twice about being with John, because the more time she spends with him, the more likely it is that she'll get caught in the crossfire."

"Oh, is that all?" Mike said smartly.

"Yeah, that's all," Mary retorted.

The two of them went back and forth a few rounds, and the rest of us sat there and let them do it, because it's no secret that their ire has nothing to do with anger and everything to do with fear.

"Okay, that's enough," Lauren said suddenly, causing both Mike and Mary to go quiet. We all looked at her, and she said, "Is there anyone at this table whose life hasn't been threatened at one point or another? No? Good, then let's move past that and get to the part where we actually enjoy our Friday night, okay? Because it's been a sucky week, and I want to drink a few beers with my friends, and then go home with B and..."

"Wait, I'm going to have to stop you right there," Jennifer interrupted, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm pretty sure I'm not old enough to hear what you and Bernard do in the privacy of your own home."

Then she looked around at the rest of us and said, "I mean, seriously - have you see that Vincent Wolfe rug in the living room? You know why it looks like that, right?"

And just like that, we finally had what we needed. Honest to God laughter at the table.

"I _knew_ it was an imprint of your ass," Mike said to Lauren, now grinning from ear to ear.

"Shows how much you know," she quipped. "It's B's ass, not mine."

"Remind me never to take my shoes off in your place," Mary joked.

"In whose place?" Lauren asked. "You think we're the only ones properly breaking in the rugs?"

"You're right. I'm never taking my shoes off again _anywhere_."

"Yeah, but what I want to know is where you keep that tiara while you're…" Mike said, trailing off and ending the sentiment by waggling his eyebrows.

The conversation devolved from there, and it was great to feel back in a groove again, with easy camaraderie and dirty jokes and respectful ribbing.

I'm impressed with Lauren for calling out Mike and Mary for their squabble, because really, of all of us, she's the one who has the most right to be off her game. Not only because Flowers is loose, but because he was actually out in front of her building this morning.

"She's a tough cookie," Mike remarked to me as we made the easy walk home. We spent several hours with our friends, and then we decided to call it a night, enjoying the warm evening air.

"Lauren? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," I said, slipping beneath his arm and leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked.

"Actually, I meant Mary, but Lauren, too. Of course, so are you."

I hummed my agreement as he continued, saying, "You went along with me, offering myself as bait in Detroit."

"It's the smart move."

"Are you sure? Because you know, if you tell me no, I won't go."

I glanced up at him, surprised by his words, and said, "Since when do we stifle each other's investigative urges?"

"This isn't exactly our case. In fact, we're going to be dumping our case on someone else so that we can go halfway across the country to try to flush out Albanian gang members who want to kill me. Well, John, but me. You know what I'm saying."

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"I'm saying I trust your judgement. I trust you not to fly by the seat of your pants. I trust you to take emotion out of the equation and do the _right_ thing."

"That's a lot of trust," I said softly, loving the stock he puts in me and yet at the same time, it's a little daunting.

"Sweetheart, I trust you with absolutely everything. Surely you know that by now. I trust you way more than I trust myself."

The highest form of compliment, coming from a man like Mike, a man with very serious trust issues.

Although over the past year, things have changed so much. For the better.

"I think we need to do it. Otherwise, he's always going to be looking over his shoulder. And God knows Mary will never sleep again if she's still worried about him. The emails are bad enough, but maybe if her full focus is on that aspect, while we handle the other aspect, then we can put it all to rest before anyone gets hurt."

He hugged me a little more tightly to him, and I added, "And you know damn well I'll have your back. Just let some gang member try to take you out. He'll wish he'd never heard the name John Strathmore."

Mike barked out a laugh, as I was hoping he'd do, and then he said quietly, "I sure glad I heard it, though. Aren't you? I mean, look at this life we have…"

"It's perfect," I agreed.

And it is, in spite of all the chaos spinning around us.

"Yeah, well, it's almost perfect. I still have to call the chief and let him know we usurped his command by reassigning cases and authorizing days off."

"You know what?" I posed after we walked up the front steps, and he stepped away from me to unlock the door. "I love you so much that _I'll_ call Ross."

"Really?"

"Uh huh," I said coyly.

He looked at me skeptically, but with a half-smile on his face, and he said, "Yeah, but what do I have to do for you?"

"Does it matter?"

He grinned fully then, tugging me into the house with him as he said, "Nope, not one damn bit."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jennifer**_


	15. Chapter 15

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

I caught the door to Mulder's apartment building as another resident was leaving. In her defense, she asked for ID, so I badged her and then went into the lobby.

It's seven-thirty on Saturday morning, and it's not that I'm trying to sneak up on Mulder or anything, but I awakened at six-thirty with an epiphany, and I can't wait to talk to him. Not waiting to be buzzed in will save me at least a minute, and considering I'm bouncing off the walls with my new idea, a minute is a big deal.

I went through the stairwell door and then went up, taking the steps two at a time.

 _"Hang on, where are you going?"_ Mike asked sleepily when I hopped out of bed at six thirty-one. " _I thought Lauren decided to skip the run today."_

 _"She did,_ " I answered as I quickly headed for the shower.

" _Then where are you going?"_ he called out. " _Work doesn't have to start this early on a Saturday, does it?"_

 _"I have to go see Mulder!"_ I shouted back, already standing under the spray, even though it hasn't had time to warm up yet.

I know I'm being vague, but my mind is still working through the details of its early pivotal thought, and I need Mulder to go through the logistics with me, and confirm the particulars.

 _"I could take offense at that,"_ Mike responded, suddenly right behind me, having silently opened the shower door. " _Leaving my bed to go visit another man._ "

I laughed and started to turn around, but his arms slipped around my waist, holding me against him.

 _"Oh my God,"_ I said with playful dramatic flair. " _Are you really jealous of Mulder?"_

 _"I'm jealous of anyone who gets to spend time with you,"_ he replied, his voice soft and deep, and his lips grazing against the side of my neck.

 _"I'd say you're getting quality time,"_ I countered, pushing back against him as he held me even tighter.

 _"It's not nearly enough."_

And even though he's playing, I completely agree. We've both been so busy this week, but we've done our best to make the most of the time we have, and I've spent every night at his place. Really, the only off-time that we've been apart is that forty-five minutes on Monday night when I acted like a crazy person, getting ticked at him for being concerned about our travel plans.

I've always had a chip on my shoulder about anyone questioning my complete independence. I didn't recognize Mike's response as wanting to protect me, because I've never really had anyone care about me before. I took it as him wanting to hold me back.

I've also never fought with a man and then apologized. I've always walked away, quickly and definitively, without looking back.

But that night, I took a deep breath and then put myself in Mike's shoes, wanting to see things from his perspective. Another thing I've never done - consider the possibility of an outcome other then _he's wrong and I'm right._

So yeah, I wasted close to an hour that night, being difficult, but then I apologized and we talked it through, and this week's been great, other than _just not enough_.

 _"I'm hoping to not work all day,_ " I told him, and the water's still only lukewarm, but my skin is on fire as he loosened his hold on me to instead let his hands roam all over me. " _What about you?"_

 _"Hmm?"_ he asked distractedly, his lips still working over my neck. I smiled at how single-minded his focus can be sometimes, and I let the moment happen, my zeal to get to Mulder's place temporarily put on hold.

Although I'll give him credit for recognizing that I was kind of in a hurry, because after only another moment, he turned me around, bringing his mouth to mine with frenzied passion as he grabbed onto my hips and pushed into me fully. I love him like this. Uninhibited and out of control, his complete attention on me. And the shower isn't necessarily the easiest place to make love, but it _can_ be convenient and considering our schedule this week, we've actually been in here quite a few times, and by now we're pretty good at it. In fact, we've gotten pretty good at this whole couple thing in general. It's like we've been together forever.

He continued pushing into me hard, and it feels so damn good, I had to break off the kiss, leaning my head back against the shower wall as I prepared to ride out the storm of pleasure.

But I purposely bit my tongue, to make sure not to say anything incriminating.

Something like _I love you_.

For some reason, those words keep wanting to escape, but I managed to keep quiet throughout. Well, mostly. I did mumble a few _oh my Gods_ , but so did he, so it's all good.

 _"Okay, now you can go see Mulder,"_ he said teasingly once we were done.

 _"Staking your claim, huh?"_ I replied.

 _"Can you blame me? He's closer to your age than I am. And he's a good looking guy. Nice. There's no conflict of interest."_

 _"No conflict of…you're not actually jealous,"_ I stated in amazement, looking at him questioningly, trying to decide if he's still kidding. " _Oh my God…"_

And then he suddenly got serious, his gaze locked on mine, both of us ignoring the now-hot water that's beating against his back, and he just stared for another long minute, and then he closed his eyes and said, " _You have no idea how badly I want you to finish that sentence."_

I looked at him in confusion, having absolutely no clue what he's talking about, but then he said, " _I love you. That's how that statement is supposed to end. And I don't want you to say it before you're ready, but I keep hearing it in my head, hoping you feel it, and hoping you'll say it again, because as scary as it is, I can't stop thinking about you like that, Jennifer."_

He paused for a moment, and my heart was in my throat at the sound of his words, even though I know he's more asking _me_ to say it rather than making the declaration himself, but still…this moment right here is…terrifying.

But it's been coming, we've both known it's coming, and I love him even more for wanting to make us both be upfront about our feelings. Our whole relationship has been based on honesty and straightforward talk, so why should now be any different?

And I _do_ love him. Just because it's crazy to be in love with someone after three weeks doesn't mean it isn't true.

 _"It's like every decision I've made in my life up until now has been about getting right here, to you,"_ he continued. _"And now that you're in my life, I never want to think about having to spend a day without you."_

The sweetest words ever, and so sincere, and I love how he's just putting himself out there, for _me_ , so I sucked up my fear and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face against his neck as I whispered, " _Oh my God, I love you._ "

Turns out it wasn't such a scary thing after all. Once the words were out there, and he was holding me tight, whispering them right back to me, I can honestly say it was the happiest moment of my life so far.

We held each other for a while, just savoring the moment, and then the water turned cold, and we burst out laughing as we quickly got out of the shower. I never actually washed anything while we were in there, but it won't kill me to bypass shampoo this morning.

It was most definitely worth it.

 _He loves me_ , I thought for the umpteenth time as I bounded up the last few stairs.

Yeah, so it's not necessarily only my thought on the _case_ that has the spring in my step this morning. It's mostly Mike. And who cares that I've turned into what my father would call _one of those women_? What does that even mean anyway? That I'm in love? And happy? Oh, the horror.

I went down the hall to Mulder's apartment and as I knocked on his door, I shifted my focus back to my purpose for being here.

The emails.

I find it really hard to believe that they're happening at the same time as the Albanian threat and yet the two aren't related. But supposedly they're not. We've done our due diligence with this thing, and there aren't any members of the Detroit faction unaccounted for. None of them have been in New York even on one of the days the emails were sent, much less all of them. None of them have family members or friends in the city who could be sending them out by proxy. Mulder confirmed that the emails definitely originated here, so…what the hell? John suddenly has two different people who want to kill him? Because as much as he's blowing off the emails, I agree with Mary in that the sender is serious. This isn't just random _oh he's rich and I'm not, so I hate him_.

I knocked again, harder this time since Mulder hasn't answered yet. And I know, it's only seven-thirty, but he's not a late sleeper, and I texted him to let him know I was on the way.

 _Although he never replied_ , I realized as I checked my phone.

But before I could worry, I heard rustling behind the door, and then the click of locks, and then he finally opened up.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but him standing there in only a pair of boxer shorts wasn't it. And maybe I shouldn't be looking so closely, but what pattern is that on his underwear?

"Uh, Inspector?" he asked questioningly, and I brought my eyes up to his, holding back a smile as it clicked that it's strings of binary code. Red boxers with black code.

"Jennifer," I corrected, as I do every time we see each other. "I'm guessing you didn't get my text."

"No, I'm…um…yeah, um…"

"Want me to give you a minute so you can go put something on?" I offered in amusement.

He glanced down at himself, and then looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the living room, and that's when I saw a woman lingering near the sofa. Wearing only an X-Files t-shirt.

 _Cecilia,_ I realized belatedly. I think Bernard mentioned something about her being in town this weekend, last night at Steve-O's, but I completely flaked on it.

"Hi," she said shyly as she tugged on the hem of the t-shirt.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I didn't know you had company. I can come back later."

Mulder continued looking at Cecilia for a moment, and she smiled and shrugged at him, so then he turned back to me and said, "I'm guessing you need my skills?"

"I wanted to bounce something off you, yes."

"Come in," he said, taking a step back from the door. "With Cilia here, it'll go twice as fast."

"I don't want to interrupt."

"You kinda already did that," he joked, catching me by surprise with his sense of humor. What happened to the _kid_ he was a week or so ago?

"I'll wait in the kitchen while you two…" I trailed off, just gesturing with my hand in the direction of the hall, encouraging them both to go put some clothes on.

Once they were gone, I rummaged in his cabinet and found the coffee so that I could get a pot brewing, and I chuckled to myself.

Interrupting early morning sex…it's a scene I might have expected when this was Lauren's apartment, but not with Mulder.

God, Mike will just die when I tell him Mulder opened the door in his underwear, especially considering he was already a little jealous. Crazy, crazy man. As if he needs to be jealous of anyone.

And Cecilia…she's so cute, and the way she looked at Mulder…priceless. I wonder if that's how I looked earlier, when Mike said that he loves me. Probably.

I stood at the counter and watched the coffee brew, and after a few minutes, Mulder and Cecilia came into the room, each carrying laptops, each with their glasses on, and both with identical sly smiles.

"Again, guys, I'm really sorry," I told them. "I should've waited for you to respond to my text, but…"

"You have something you want to run up the pole," Mulder finished. "It's cool, Inspector."

"Jennifer," I said firmly. "For God's sake, Mulder, two minutes ago you were standing in front of me in your underwear, so let's drop the formalities."

It reminded me of a conversation with Mike, back a few weeks ago, that night in the bar. The night I kissed him for the first time. I'd called him Mr. Cutter and it pissed him off.

 _Two and a half weeks later, and he's in love with me._

"They were cool though, yeah?" Mulder said with a grin.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The code boxers, right? Cilia gave them to me."

I wanted to pretend I hadn't noticed the code design, but more so, I wanted to stop talking about his underwear, so I just said, "The perfect gift."

They smiled at each other for a minute, so I grabbed some mugs and poured us all some coffee, and then we finally got to it.

"Okay, so the emails," I began. "You have the originating IP locations for all of them, and they're all in Manhattan, right?"

"Internet cafes," he agreed with a nod.

"I compiled a few lists for you, in case you want to scope it from all angles," Cecilia ventured cautiously, like she might be afraid of my response. Like maybe I'll be upset that she's involved. Hell, I don't care who's involved as long as we figure it out, and if her mind is anything close to Mulder's, we'll catch this guy that much faster.

"Such as," I prompted encouragingly.

"You know, geographical, chronological, both in time and day," she explained.

"Good thinking. I like it."

She smiled broadly at me, and then I said, "Now can we expand on that, and create a file of everything else sent or searched on all of those IP's?"

"Dude, it'll be galactical, you know what I'm saying? You heard me say internet cafes, right?"

"I know, but we can restrict it to…say, maybe thirty minutes both ways," I suggested. "Because I find it hard to believe that this person just walked into a café and sent one email every time he did it. Surely he did something else, even if it was just to piddle and look inconspicuous."

"So what he considered innocuous might actually give you insight," Cecilia stated.

"Exactly."

"But like I said, sofa king," Mulder insisted, still looking dubious.

"That's okay," I assured him. "What else am I going to do all weekend?"

I actually know what I hope to be doing this weekend, but that's not to say I can read through printouts in between. Preferably while naked, in bed with Mike.

"And we can help," Cecilia offered. "Right?"

Mulder began nodding slowly, his attention already shifted to his laptop.

And then I had another thought.

"Hey, if I send you John's schedule from the past two weeks, you can compare that to your chronological listing of the email times, right? As well as the geographical?"

"In like two seconds," she answered. "Why?"

"Well, he switched his schedule after Mulder found out he was hacked, and the next day the email went to Mary instead of John."

"Meaning…"

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Maybe nothing, but possibly something."

"You think the sender was following him? That's a little creepy."

"Yes, it is."

"But if he's following him, why bother with cryptic emails? Why not just…"

She trailed off, but I finished it for her, as much as I hate the thought.

"Go ahead and kill him? I have no idea."

She and I both sipped on our coffee while pondering that question. Mulder was already lost in his Mac, his fingers flying over the keyboard, and now he looks like that kid again.

"Maybe this isn't about John," Cecilia said after another minute.

I furrowed my brow as I considered her words. Not about John? He's been the recipient, up until Thursday. And even then, it still referred to him.

But maybe I'm too close.

"Explain," I requested, since she seemed to be waiting for me to ask.

"Well, the emails haven't really bothered him, have they? I mean, Mulder said that he dismissed them at first, and that he might have continued to dismiss them if not for his wife, who's been kind of freaking out about it."

"That's true," I murmured thoughtfully.

"So, maybe it's _actually_ about Mary."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Connie**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Connie POV**

* * *

"I want to go talk to Schmenke today."

"What? Why? You know the feds have already been all over him."

"I know, but I have a relationship with him," I reasoned.

"Oh really? Exactly what kind of relationship? Because I kinda thought that you and me had something going on," Lupo responded playfully, his hand sliding across my breast.

We're still in bed at ten on Saturday morning. It has to be a record for us, I think, although maybe not. I honestly have no idea. We're up late so often that sometimes we sleep in, if we can get a little breather from work. Staying in bed until noon doesn't seem so gluttonous if we were up working until four in the morning.

But this is different, since we weren't working late last night.

Well, unless you call trying to make a baby _work_.

I don't. Not yet, anyway. I suppose it could turn out that we have trouble getting pregnant, and if it becomes doctor's appointments, and taking my temperature every day, and trying to time when we make love _then_ I might call it work.

For now, we're just enjoying the process.

And we enjoyed it twice last night, before _and_ after our dinner with Mulder and Cecilia. Which, by the way, was a lot of fun. The dinner, I mean. Well, and the other, too, but I'm referring to the dinner.

Mulder and Cecilia knocked on our door at exactly seven last night. We'd opted to stay in, rather than go to some noisy restaurant where talking is difficult because I definitely feel like I need to have a nice, long chat with Cecilia, since it seems Mulder is completely infatuated with her.

 _"She's exactly it,_ " he told me when I met him for lunch on Wednesday.

 _"It?"_

 _"Who I've been waiting for,"_ he explained. _"You told me I had to be patient, and I was. I mean, I did it all like you said, right? I got a job and a place to live, and just like that, it all lined up, you know what I'm saying?"_

 _"I do, but when I said be patient, I meant it could take weeks or months,"_ I said carefully. _"Years, even. Lots of dates with the wrong person before finding one who might be right for you."_

 _"So, you mean, she's not right for me?"_ he asked in confusion. _"Just because I didn't error out on anyone else first? Are you sure?"_

 _"No,"_ I said quickly. " _I'm not saying that. It's just…I want you to be careful."_

 _"Of…her?"_

 _"Of getting hurt."_

 _"By her?"_ he asked, still completely befuddled, and I felt bad for even pointing out that she might not be the one, but at the same time, I'm so afraid that he might think he's in love just because she was his first.

 _"Mulder, I'm simply saying to take things slowly. Love happens over time, and sometimes lust can feel like love, especially when you bypass the getting-to-know-you part and go straight to the sex."_

 _"Okay,"_ he said with a thoughtful nod. " _So you and Lupo…you dated a while before you…well, you know."_

I should've anticipated him turning it around to me, but I didn't, so I grabbed a few French fries and stalled my answer under the guise of eating.

And then I reminded myself that we've been preaching honesty to him, and it wouldn't be fair of me to pick and choose.

 _"No, actually,"_ I admitted. _"But I did know him for a while before we started dating. As colleagues, I mean."_

 _"Huh. Okay. So you think I'm forcing the code when I might should look at a rewrite?"_

 _"No,"_ I said quickly, trying to figure out where I went wrong with this conversation. Or maybe I shouldn't have even started it. Why couldn't I just be happy for him when he said she's the one?

 _"Listen, it's just that you met her, and a week later you spent the weekend with her, and now less than a week after that, you're…I don't know. Sounding committed. I'm just wondering how much time you've spent actually talking with her, and if maybe you aren't curious to talk with other women, now that you're finding your confidence, or maybe even going on dates with other women."_

 _"We talk every day. Several times a day, actually,"_ he confessed. _"About everything."_

His serious expression had me re-evaluating the whole thing, because what do I know? Maybe it is love at first sight, and maybe they are meant to be together. And I can say I knew Lupo before we started dating, before our first date when I jumped him in the first five minutes, but how much did I really know about him? Not very much, and yet I knew enough to know I really wanted him, both physically and emotionally.

 _"And Connie,_ " he continued, surprising me with his use of my first name. " _She gets me, you know? Like, I don't have to go back and explain what I'm saying. And I don't have to try to be different. I can just be me, because that's who she likes."_

He held my gaze, waiting for my response, and I broke into a smile, putting my hand over his where it rested on the table.

" _Then I couldn't be happier for you, Mulder. And I'm really looking forward to spending some more time with her, getting to know her better. Friday night, right?"_

He grinned back at me, once more seeming at ease as he nodded his head enthusiastically.

 _"She'll be here on the five-ten train."_

 _"Then how about dinner at seven? I'll cook."_

Which is how I found myself opening the door at seven last night, to see the two of them standing in the hall, holding hands and smiling.

I know I didn't see Cecilia at her best last Sunday, when we were up in Boston and she was so worried about Mulder, so I made a point to start my assessment over from scratch. Not that she made a bad impression on me, because she didn't. Her concern for him and the fact that she called Lupo actually scored her big points in my book. But overall, I wanted to use a clean slate, since those were extraordinary circumstances.

So I ushered them into the apartment, and then sent Lupo and Mulder into the living room with a couple of beers while Cecilia and I stayed in the kitchen.

" _What can I do to help?_ " she asked immediately, setting her purse on the counter, and then looking over at me expectantly.

" _Just keep me company,"_ I answered. I held out a bottle of Stella in her direction, and she smiled and took it from my hand.

" _Thanks. I was going to bring you a bottle of wine, since that's the clichéd thing to do when going to someone's house for dinner, but Mulder said you don't care for wine, so then I didn't know what to bring,_ " she chatted. _"And then I texted him while I was on the train to ask him what kind of beer you drink, thinking I'd bring a six of something, and he mentioned a few brands, Stella being one of them just in case you were wondering how observant he is of you, and anyway, so I stopped and bought a six, but then I left it in the cab, so…"_

 _"Cecilia, it's fine,_ " I said, unable to keep from laughing at her drawn out explanation. _"I appreciate the thought."_

I didn't point out that I'm not drinking anything right now anyway. I figured I may as well hang it up now, since we're trying to get pregnant, but of course, I'm also not going to call any attention to that fact. It won't be easy to stay under the radar, the next time we join everyone in Steve-O's and I'm not drinking. I mean, they are detectives. But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

 _"Yeah, well,"_ she began and then she exhaled heavily. " _I'm a little nervous."_

 _"About having dinner with us?"_

 _"Well, yeah,"_ she said, surprised at _my_ surprise. " _I mean, isn't this where you decide whether or not I'm good enough for him?"_

 _"We aren't his parents,"_ I deflected.

 _"Still…you might as well be. You know how much he loves you, and how he values your opinion. And I guess the more I started thinking about how things will go if you don't like me…it's freaking me out a little. Especially after last Sunday, because what kind of first meeting was that? I was crying my eyes out, and I hugged Lupo…"_

She trailed off, shaking her head as she put a hand to her forehead, and I instantly took pity on her. Not only that, but I could totally see why Mulder likes her so much. She's very genuine and has a sweet vulnerability about her.

" _Relax,"_ I said soothingly. _"This isn't a do-or-die dinner, okay? Mulder's a smart guy. He likes you for a reason. So, tell me about your job. You write code?"_

So she went into more detail about her work, and as she talked, she moved over to the counter where I was working, and next thing I knew, we were chopping in unison, and she flashed me a shy smile, remarking _I love to cook and hardly ever do it since it's just me_ , and then she went back to telling me more about herself. I noticed she didn't go back more than a few years, but that's okay. I don't typically go back much further than that either. No one wants to hear about my abusive boyfriend and my aversion to wine, or about how I was date raped in college. Those events might have shaped some of my choices, but it's not who I am, just like Cecilia has made a point not to let being a ward of the state define her.

By the time the meal was ready, we let it cool on the counter just so I could finish telling her the story of how Lupo first met my brother, and we spent another minute laughing, her at the image and me at the memory.

 _"So first impressions can be overcome,"_ she remarked playfully.

 _"Apparently. Although you know, last Sunday…the fact that you were so worried about him…that's not a bad thing."_

 _"I was a basket case,"_ she pointed out. " _And you guys are all so…calm and cool and collected. I mean, I don't know how you do it. You're in danger or your friends are, and yet it's just another day for you. Don't you ever get scared?"_

 _"All the time,"_ I admitted. _"But we lean on each other. We're family."_

She nodded thoughtfully, but didn't respond, and as I watched her, it hit me why Mulder's so enamored with her. She's like a kindred spirit for him. She wants what he wants, and like him, even if for different reasons, she's been denied it most of her life.

I'm not usually one to clamor about fate and destiny, but what the hell…maybe it _is_ fate that they found each other. Or maybe it's just going to be a fling for both of them, but whatever the case, I don't see her ever hurting him, at least not on purpose. And that's really all I can ask for.

The rest of the evening was very pleasant, with a competitive game of scrabble coming after dinner, and then they left around eleven.

 _"Orgastic?"_ Lupo asked me after locking up behind them.

 _"It's a word,_ " I said with a grin.

 _"Okay, maybe. But you think it was an appropriate one to use with Mulder and Cecilia?"_

 _"You're just mad because I put it on a triple word score,"_ I replied unrepentantly. _"Besides, if you think they don't know that word after last weekend…"_

 _"What did the two of you talk about under the guise of cooking dinner?_ " he asked suspiciously as he wrapped his arms around me.

 _"Not that,_ " I said on a laugh. _"But I like her."_

 _"Yeah, me, too."_

He leaned down and brushed his lips along the side of my throat, his hands tugging my hips closer to his.

 _"You know, maybe I used that word as a request,_ " I said coyly as I let my eyes fall closed while his lips moved up to my ear.

 _"Oh yeah?"_ he asked, his voice practically a growl, and I could only just hum my response because he was already unbuttoning my blouse.

See, Lupo never denies me anything.

So that was last night, and now today, I need to go into the office for a little while, and I know Lupo's going to work with Bernard, too, but we agreed not to do it too early.

"You and I just might have a little something going on," I responded to Lupo's teasing remark, turning onto my back to encourage his touch.

"Little?" he questioned, his hand lingering on my breast for another moment before trailing down to my stomach, and then he got serious, pressing his palm flat against me as he said softly, "So do you think it's worked yet?"

Words can't express how much I love him. He's just so, so sweet.

"I'm not sure," I said, putting my hand on top of his where it's still resting against my stomach. "Maybe."

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, raising his eyes to mine, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"We've certainly been giving it our best efforts. And this past week has been the right time, so to speak, so…maybe."

He held my gaze another beat, and then he leaned over, moving our hands out of the way so he could press his lips against my stomach.

"I hope so."

Two hours later, I was at work, sitting in Mike's office.

"Everything's set up," he said after hanging up the phone. "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

To visit Schmenke. In prison.

He hasn't been sentenced yet, or even gone to trial, but he's being held in Rikers without bail. The idea that he helped Flowers escape just makes me sick, and if he knows something that will help the police catch him, then I want to find out about it.

 _The police,_ I thought. Lupo and Bernard. My husband just texted me a little bit ago to tell me about the massive restructuring of caseload in Major Case, and how that sent the Logans and Gorens to Detroit, while he and his partner take over the task of catching Flowers. For his attempted murder on Jeremy, rather than the escape since that's federal, but who cares? Lupo will catch him.

"I think he feels competitive with you," I said. "He might not open up. Whereas if it's just me…"

"An attractive woman all alone?" he surmised, looking only mildly amused that I'd willingly use the feminine card. And true, it's not my typical M.O., but if it helps catch Flowers, which in turn will help Lauren, then I'll do whatever it takes.

"It's worth a shot," I said.

Mike nodded and leaned back in his chair, looking completely relaxed and happy.

"So, before I go, do you want to tell me what has you looking so content today?" I asked him.

He made a point of looking at his watch, and then he grinned and said, "No, you'd better go."

"I have time," I argued lightly. "How's it going with you and Jennifer?"

"I'd say…very well," he responded, and then he reached for a file and opened it up, supposedly to let me know our conversation was finished.

"That's all I get?"

"What more do you want? This isn't girls' night, Connie," he joked. "We're not doing shots of Patron."

"Ha ha. You don't need to be liquored up to tell me about your relationship, do you? Is it that bad?" I pressed, hoping I was pushing the right button to get him to open up.

I've barely had the time for any kind of personal conversation with him all week, and I'm really curious to hear how things have progressed. After the discussion with Jennifer last Friday, with her talking about his impressive _bat,_ and some of the things she shared that he said to her…I'll admit to being interested in hearing his take on things. I'm really hoping she's more to him than just a little fun for a few weeks.

He stared at me for a moment, surely trying to decide how much to disclose, and then he finally donned a _what the hell_ expression and said, "No, it's that good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he agreed, smiling broadly. "She…I…we…"

"You what?" I asked, completely clueless as to what he wants to say.

"Never mind," he dismissed. "It's…you'll think it's…"

"Mike, I need some verbs here, you're killing me," I said, holding back a laugh.

"I'm in love with her," he admitted suddenly. "And it's crazy, I get that, but I am."

"Wow. Really? And she's…"

"That's the _really_ crazy thing. She loves me, too."

Funny how I was so worried about Mulder rushing into something with Cecilia, but yet with Mike, I'm just happy for him. Maybe because he has more experience, or because he's more mature, or maybe because Mulder's like my kid, I don't know, but I'm really starting to believe more and more in the idea that some people are just meant to be together, and it might take longer to find that person, but once you do…well, that's it.

I chatted with Mike for a few more minutes about his latest development, and then I left the office, heading for Rikers.

Lupo offered to come with me, and I considered it, just to have him wait outside as mental back-up, but I know he's working on other leads, and I don't want to waste his time being my babysitter.

So I'll talk to Schmenke. And then I'll put in a couple more hours at the office.

And _then_ I'll meet up with Lupo for dinner.

And hopefully we'll get in a few more rounds of _practice_.

I smiled at the thought as I parked at the prison, and then I got out of the car and was startled by a familiar voice behind me.

"It's about time, Counselor."

I turned around to see Mary and Jennifer leaning against a car across the row.

"What are you two doing here?" I asked in surprise, and then I figured Mike must have been worried about me coming here alone. I'm not sure how I feel about that, considering this is sometimes my job and yet he felt the need to call his girlfriend…

"Lupo asked us to drop by," Mary said, halting my rambling, presumptuous thoughts.

"He did?"

"Actually, I called him to say we were thinking about making the trip, and he told us you were already scheduled to come out here, so…"

"So we figured three on one is always better than one on one," Jennifer finished.

"Is it? Really?" I joked as I stepped up beside them.

"Okay, not always," she said with a grin. "But when it comes to a lowlife piece of scum like Schmenke…"

She trailed off with a shrug, like she's hoping I won't be upset by the intrusion, and I took an extra second just to look at her because…well, because my boss is in love with her. It boggles my mind a little, and yet I can totally see it.

"Sounds good to me," I agreed. "Let's do it."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Alex**_


	17. Chapter 17

**Alex POV**

* * *

"When I said I wanted us to get away, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," I mumbled to Bobby as we made our way through the streets of Detroit in our rental car.

"Did you say you wanted to get away?" he asked with a smirk.

"Or stay home," I replied. "But still…"

"You're the one who offered," he reminded me softly.

"As if either of us would want to be anywhere else," I answered.

Because for God's sake, if Mike is going to offer himself as bait in Detroit, then we're damn sure going to have his back. I'm about sick to death of this Albanian gang anyway. Why the hell won't they just accept defeat? It's not like we came to Detroit and kicked _their_ asses. Before now, I mean. Before, we were content to clean up New York. But no, they had to keep talking about John, so yeah, _now_ we'll kick their asses.

"It's out there, but no takers yet," Mike said as he hung up the phone. He just checked in with Mary, who was making sure that word of his impending arrival was flowing freely through back channels.

"And she's sure they're listening to everyone who matters?" Carolyn asked him.

She's been pretty quiet so far, although admittedly most of our time has been spent on a plane, which isn't exactly her comfort zone, but still…I know firsthand how nerve wracking it can be to have the one you love at risk.

"You know she's sure," I soothed. "It'll probably take a day or two to order and arrange a hit. I think for tonight we should just check in and grab a bite to eat, and then we can discuss what we want to do tomorrow, if there's still no word."

I glanced back in the rearview mirror to see Mike kissing his wife on the cheek. She _is_ nervous about this whole thing. Even more so than I might have expected.

"We don't know from where it's coming," Bobby whispered to me, clearly having picked up on Carolyn's mood. "She'll be alright."

"Did you find us something good?" I asked him, nodding towards his phone where he's been googling for a hotel in a safe neighborhood, with a bar.

"Did I find…" he repeated playfully, looking at me with a half-smile. "Have we met? Of course I found something good."

"So are you going to tell me which way to go, or what?" I teased.

Fifteen minutes later, we were checked into two rooms.

"Hotel bar in five?" I posed as we rode up in the elevator, intent to take our luggage into our rooms.

"That works," Carolyn agreed.

Bobby and I got off on the third floor, while Mike and Carolyn rode on up to the fifth. I don't like being that far apart and yet at the same time, it's impossible at this point for anyone who matters to have a clue where we are. Mary had Agent Winfield get the word out earlier today, and we flew here under false names, courtesy of the US Marshal Service.

"We need her head in the game," I commented to Bobby as we entered our room.

"She'll be fine."

"She's not talking," I pointed out.

"We're going down for dinner and drinks," he said as he dropped the bags and then pulled me into his arms. "She'll relax, and you'll get her to open up about what's bothering her, more than the expected, I mean, and then we'll show her how crazy she is for being worried, and then it'll all be good."

"Wow, we're going to do all that at one dinner?"

"Dinner and drinks, and yes, because you're a miracle worker. And she knows this is going to work and that it's the best plan, but she's probably freaking out just a little because it _is_ the Albanian mafia and her husband's the target, so…"

"So, I'll fix her," I said with a nod. "No problem."

And actually, it wasn't. Bobby was right in his assessment. Well, mostly. Apparently, she has one more thing on her mind. As if she needed more.

"I got a letter in the mail today. The storage facility where I've been keeping my family's stuff, it's going out of business," she told me quietly while Mike and Bobby discussed something so normal as the NBA playoffs. "I've had it there for fifteen years, and now I have to move it out and store it somewhere else."

"Or go through it. You can decide what you want to keep, and store it at your house. I mean, it's big enough, isn't it? How much stuff is there?"

"It's…a lot. I couldn't handle it at the time, so I just packed up everything. My brother's stuff, my sister's, my parents'…"

She trailed off and took a healthy sip of beer and then she said, "It's why I'm having so much trouble today, I think. I keep thinking about how I lost everyone, and now I have family again, and yet we're _here,_ and the people I love the most are all in danger, and the thought of losing everyone _again_ …"

Her voice broke, catching me off guard because this vulnerable side of Carolyn is not one with which I'm all that familiar. I mean, sure, we've had our moments, and I truly consider her to be my best friend, but she's almost always just so _solid_. Of course, I don't blame her for feeling like she does, and I'm glad she can be honest with me, but it took me a moment to figure out what to say next.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't we take down an entire gang faction just a week or so ago? Not to mention the fact that you and Mike were separating the Italians and the Irish, stopping gang wars and arresting mass murderers. Isn't this what we do on a regular basis?"

"Well, yes."

"And haven't we thwarted every death threat? Arrested every sicko? Taken down every single bad guy _and_ girl who've tried to mess with us?"

"Yes," she admitted, starting to smile a little at my purposely arrogant remarks.

"Then it looks to me like these guys are the ones who should be worried. These dumbasses who're sitting around talking about John, thinking they know him, and thinking they know how to take him out. They're the ones messing up. And they're the ones who're going to pay."

She nodded and smiled bigger, and then I added, "Besides, it's not just Mike anymore, and it's not just you and Mike. It's not even just the four of us, like when we took on Chicago. Mike's running with the big dogs now. He's got street cred. Serious Irish weight, even in Detroit."

"You didn't…"

"Hell yes, I did," I said with a grin. "You think I wouldn't give O'Connor a heads up that his nephew is taking on a Detroit gang? I don't know about you, but I never mind having an ace in my pocket, especially when we're talking about Mike's life."

And I'm not kidding about that, either. I called him this morning.

 _"'Tis the lass with the knack for the bones,"_ he answered cheerily.

 _"You know, if your line is tapped, you might be giving some fed the wrong idea about me,"_ I joked, hoping he likes my sense of humor. He laughed heartily, quickly putting my worry to rest, and then he said, _"So we shouldn't talk about the digging we did in my backyard then, is that it, my dear?"_

It was my turn to laugh, even though I'm silently praying there _isn't_ a wiretap on his phone.

 _"Probably not, no,"_ I agreed.

 _"But you're calling for more than laughter, I'm sure. What is it that Shane O'Connor can do for you today?"_

 _"I'm not sure,"_ I admitted. " _But I thought putting you in the know would be a smart move. Just in case."_

So I told him about our travel plans, complete with the use of Mike to lure out John's would-be killer.

 _"No shortage of dash-fire with that boy, is there?"_ he said after a moment's pause.

 _"No, sir,"_ I agreed.

 _"What's this with the sir? So we're going back to that now, are we?"_

 _"I'm sorry. Mr. O'Connor."_

 _"Shane,"_ he corrected firmly. _"You're family. And as for this business in Detroit…are you wanting me out there?"_

 _"I don't think that's necessary yet,_ " I answered, pleased by his offer. _"I just thought you should know, in case something more emergent comes up. And if you have any friends in that area, it never hurts to have an ally."_

 _"Truer words, my dear. I'll make a call. I expect the same, if you're needing me, to be sure. And even if you don't."_

 _"Of course."_

I almost called him _sir_ again, but I managed to hold back. I still can't bring myself to say Shane, though.

 _"And keep your iron hot, my dear,"_ he added.

 _"Always."_

"Thank you," Carolyn said once I filled her in on the conversation. "It's nice to know we're not out here on an island, you know?"

"Bermuda. That's an island. Not Detroit," I said with a smirk. She smiled back at me, clearly much more relaxed than she was when we got here, and I gave myself a mental pat on the back, and then added, "And if you want any help going through those boxes, all you have to do is ask."

"Thanks," she said with a nod.

"I mean, we can even make it a thing, if you want. Get all the girls out there, a few bottles of Patron…"

She laughed at my silly suggestion, and I guess that was the cue that Mike and Bobby were waiting for, because they suddenly shifted their attention back to us.

"So Sean and Lauren have Shaw and Canter," Bobby said. "That should keep her busy. Did you tell Sean not to let Lauren out of his sight during the working hours?"

"I did," I answered. "He was already on it, anyway. I guess Bernard asked him how she was doing, which clued him into the fact that maybe she's having trouble."

"Who wouldn't? The guy was pretty clear about the fact that he wants to kill her. After he rapes her again," Mike said through gritted teeth. I know that if we weren't here, we'd be back there, in a full man hunt.

"Lupo and Bernard will get him. If anyone has motivation to catch somebody…" Carolyn said.

"I can't even begin to imagine," Bobby said softly, reaching over to take hold of my hand.

"The faster we wrap things up here, the sooner we can get home and help out," Mike stated. "So what's the quickest way to draw these assholes out? Go stand on a corner in Sterling Heights and yell _I took down the New York Albanians_?"

"You know, that's still bugging me," Bobby said.

"The name," I said quickly. "Me, too. How the hell did anyone out here know John's name?"

"Right, because supposedly you killed one of them," Carolyn said, looking at Mike. "And yet Mary said there hasn't been a mention of your name. Not since the arrests were made. Not in Detroit, anyway. They were all talking about wanting you dead, and then once the gang imploded, they went silent."

"Until they started again, only with John's name," Mike finished. "You're right, it makes no sense. If they were in contact with any of the players in New York, they'd know Mary. Jennifer. The other marshals."

"Me. Bobby. Maybe Lupo and Bernard," I added.

"Unless it's because of Mary," Bobby suggested. "Their marriage made the papers on Saturday, and she got word about the chatter on Saturday night. Maybe it's payback on her."

"No, she said the transcripts were from a couple of days earlier," Carolyn corrected. "Before the wedding."

"Doesn't mean they didn't know about his connection to her," Mike pointed out.

"True," I mused thoughtfully, then I looked at Mike and asked, "So did Mary tell you about any progress with the emails?"

"Uh huh. And she said Jennifer's questioning if maybe _they're_ somehow meant for Mary," he answered. "Which fits into line with this, too, right? If someone is after her…"

"But they aren't related. Or at least, that's what they concluded from Mulder's findings."

"They weren't sent from here," Bobby said, and I can tell by his tone that he's on to something, trying to work through a thread in his mind.

"Just say it," I encouraged. "We'll work through it together."

"What if they are connected? If someone _is_ after her, they would know about John, and they'd know about the Albanian case."

"And…what? Someone dropped John's name as being involved, so that he'd be a target?"

"But again, even if that's true, why would he be the _only_ target? If Detroit wants revenge for New York, wouldn't we all be targets?" Mike asked.

"That would also assume this person in New York would know who to call in Detroit. And how would they know that? I wouldn't even know who to call, if I wanted to find a gang member," Carolyn said.

"Mary would know," Bobby replied. "She has a listing of everyone, from when they were chattering about coming to New York."

"When they wanted to kill me," Mike said.

We were all quiet for a minute, and I suddenly had the scary thought that maybe we're about six hundred miles from where we should be. Because maybe Jennifer's right. And Bobby.

Maybe this is about Mary.

"Maybe the emails have been a wild goose chase, meant as a distraction, " I said, picking up momentum. "And John's computer was hacked. Badly. Mulder found it within minutes, and I know he's good, but it should still take some time."

"So what if the person didn't care about John's computer," Bobby finished. "What if he hacked Mary's, too, only she's been so busy looking at John…"

"Okay, let's go to Sterling Heights tonight," Mike said suddenly. "Because this is ridiculous. We're sitting around here doing nothing while Mary and Lauren might both be in danger. And if we're wrong, then it's John and Lauren who're in danger. Either way, maybe this was a really bad idea to come here."

"No, it wasn't," Carolyn said rationally. "It'll take one threat off the table."

"And if someone's after Mary, they'll get more than they bargained for," I stated. "You know that. She's pretty damn scary, and she sure as hell knows how to take care of herself."

"When her attention is on taking care of John?" he countered.

"Even then," Bobby said firmly. "And Lauren's tough, too. She might be struggling, but it's just a fear of the unknown. If Flowers tries to approach her…well, let's just say I don't think we'll need to worry about him escaping prison again. I think she'll put him six feet under."

We all nodded, each trying to reassure the other, and then Mike's cell phone rang.

"It's O'Connor," he said in confusion, and then he answered, saying, "Is everything okay?"

I stared at him, trying to determine the course of the conversation, as well as decide just exactly how pissed Mike's going to be with me, and then after another minute, he hung up.

"I won't ask why you called him," he said, staring at me with admonishment.

"Because you understand?"

"Because it's a damn good thing you did."

"Why, what's going on?" Bobby asked.

"The word is out that _John's_ in town," he answered. "Only no one's using their phones because they know they're tapped, which is why Mary's guy hasn't heard anything."

"They know you're here," Carolyn repeated quietly.

"So if they know the phones are tapped…" I began, wondering why they would've mentioned a hit in the first place.

"To instigate fear," Bobby said, answering my unasked question.

Mike nodded and said, "And according to O'Connor's local contact, it looks like the fifty grand has inspired a _lot_ of takers."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Mulder**_


	18. Chapter 18

**Mulder POV**

* * *

"She was beermat, anyway. I mean, dude, you can't do what you _do_?"

I shook my head as I handed bottles of Bud Light to Aaron and Jeremy, and then the three of us sat down at the table.

"Messed up, right?" Aaron agreed. "He practically gets run over, and she bails."

"Better now than later," Jeremy said, not looking too upset about the latest with Natalie.

His words sound like they probably came from Liz, but it seems he believes them, which is a good thing.

"Yeah, although you can't really blame her," I deadpanned. "You look like shit."

He actually does, with darkening road rash on his cheek and forehead.

Jeremy barked out a laugh and then took a swig of the beer, as Aaron nodded and grinned, saying, "Yeah, you shoulda heard our mom when she saw him yesterday. She was all like, _what the hell happened to you_ , and then does J play it off to keep her from freaking even more? No, he had to say _I dove into a car, trying to stop an escaped murderer_ , and holy crap the sound that came out of her mouth…"

"And then she turned to Dad," Jeremy picked up, "and said _you won't be happy until he gets himself killed_ , so then I said, _no that's when you'll be happy because you've had a case of the ass for me since Baltimore_."

"That's when it really went to hell," Aaron said, still looking extremely amused.

It's Saturday evening and I've had a killer weekend, with Cecilia staying at my place, and dinner with Lupo and Connie last night, and then the badass inspector, Jennifer, stopped by this morning so we helped her for a while, and then me and Cilia did some touristy stuff this afternoon, and then when the guys came over, she said she was going to go say hi to Liz for an hour or so, after which, of course, she's coming back here.

I can't even think that without donning a shit-eating grin because I still can't believe this is my life. I worked in the federal building all week. I've been side-jobbing with US Marshals. And now I've got my girl, spending the weekend with me.

"Hey, don't go blue screen on us," Aaron said, interrupting my daydreaming, and I laughed as Jeremy said, "It's not _go_ blue screen, it's just blue screen. Shit, A, haven't you ever gotten the BSOD?"

"What the hell's a besod?"

"Hang on, you were telling me about graduation," I said, putting a stop to their sibling bickering.

But it's awesome, and I love hearing it, and being a part of it, and I think it's so cool that Aaron's going to be in New York now, too. We'll be like…like...I don't know. Not the three stooges, as Liz likes to tease. Or the three musketeers because that just sounds corny.

But I mean, we'll be best friends, and that's something I've never had before. Not ever.

Of course I've never had a girlfriend, either.

 _Damn, I'm flagshippin' like a mother fucker._

"You know the best part about graduation?" Aaron said, and then he held up his bottle, clinking it against ours as he added, "I'm done. And I'm here. So give me the megs, it's been like two weeks."

"The Logans and the Gorens are in Detroit," Jeremy said.

"The Albanians?" I asked him.

"Wait, what Albanians?" Aaron questioned, so then Jeremy told him about the case with Christina and Demachi and Rama, and then about the supposed hit request on John.

"Who's John again? The rich dude?"

"Yeah, but he's cool. And I've trolled his shit, he's on the up and up, you know what I'm saying? None of that sketch maneuvering to make an extra buck," I said, and then I looked at J and added, "Oh, and Jennifer came over this morning,"

"No shit, the hot inspector?" he asked with interest, a big smile on his face. "I can't imagine _she'd_ have a problem with me getting beat up from time to time. What'd she want?"

"Who cares what she wanted?" Aaron piped in. "What's she look like?"

"She's smokin', A, I'm serious," Jeremy answered. "She's got these eyes that are like…like…I don't know, what's something that's kinda blue, but kinda gray, but like a really cool gray?"

"Who's looking at her eyes?" Aaron retorted. "What about the rest of her?"

"Guys, you wanna spend all night spoutin' fantasy mackadocious, or can we get back to it?"

They ribbed me for a few minutes, about how now that I'm getting some on a regular basis, I don't have to talk smack about the other women we know, and I guess that's true, but I don't feel bad about it at all. Nothing was ever going to happen with any of those women anyway, and I wouldn't want for it to, not now that I have Cilia. She's just…perfect.

"So tell me about Jennifer," Jeremy said after they had their fun. "She's still working on those emails?"

So I told him how she'd asked for thirty minutes of activity in both directions, and how that netted her miles of data, but she seemed pretty happy when she left.

"She was meeting Mary to go to Rikers," I added. "The ten was going to talk to Flowers' lawyer, and Lupo didn't want her to go alone."

"Schmenke?" Jeremy asked. "That two-bit piece of shit? What did they get from him, do you know?"

Jeremy seems to feel personally invested in getting Flowers back behind bars, and I don't blame him. Hayes is such a sweet person, and it fries my circuit to even think about what that guy wants to do to her. She was worried about me living here, afraid that he might come here looking for her, but I'm not scared of him. I'm just scared for _her_.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I haven't talked to anyone since. You know Lupo and Bernard are after him now, right? Since the Gorens left town."

"I wish I'd gotten him yesterday," he muttered in annoyance. "I would've pulled his sorry ass out of that car and beaten the shit out of him."

"You think he'll try going back to her building?" Aaron asked. "Because maybe if there are two of us there…"

I thought maybe I should point out that it wouldn't be such a good idea for them to get involved, but I'm their friend, not their dad, so I didn't say anything. Instead, Jeremy asked me for more deets on my weekend, so I got another round of beer from the fridge and ponied up as much as I dared, without crossing the line, and an hour after that, I got a text from Cilia.

"She's on her way back," I announced, unable to keep from smiling as I typed her a quick response.

"So…what, you're giving us the boot?"

"Are you kidding me? She has to go home tomorrow - you think I'm going to spend our last night together with you two?"

"That hurts, man," Jeremy joked as he got up and tossed his empty in the trash. "Picking a girl over your bros."

"You're just ticked that your girl couldn't handle the sight of a little blood," I replied, hoping I'm right in that he's over her enough to take the teasing. "How's she going to get through med school if road rash had her hitting the bricks?"

"She just assumes I'm trouble," he said, not jumping on the bashwagon. "And maybe I am, I don't know. Maybe she was too high class for me."

"Bullshit, J," Aaron spoke up. "Hey, it's early, let's go hit up some clubs and see what's out there."

They both turned to me, since I'm the keeper of their fake IDs, but I shook my head and said, "The deal was only if I'm with you, remember? I'm not dragging Cilia out to watch you two try to score."

"King's," Jeremy bargained. "It's mostly safe, and close to the house, and we'll sub it, I promise."

It's mind-blowing how our dynamic seems to have changed almost overnight. It's almost like I'm the parent here. I'm responsible for them. _What would Lupo do?_ I need to have that tattooed on my ass because I probably wonder that at least a dozen times a day.

"Come on, Mulder. It's my first real night back in the city," Aaron added. "And J got shit on yesterday. He needs some cheering up, don't you think?"

Yeah, I caved. I mean, shit, they're practically grown men, and they're my friends, not my kids, and they had fake IDs long before they met me.

"Don't do anything stupid," I said as I handed over the licenses. "And text me when you're home."

"Sure thing, Dad," Aaron joked.

"I'm serious," I insisted. "The chief trusts me, and if something happened to either of you…"

"What's gonna happen?"

Famous last words. And yet I know they're good guys. Maybe Jeremy had trouble not so long ago, but he's not the same person he was then. And I believe that, because I'm not the same person I was not so long ago either. And after his luck with women lately, maybe he does need to go out and get laid.

"Probably not much, with a face like yours," I said challengingly, causing Aaron to burst out laughing, and Jeremy just smiled, nodding at me as he said, "Game on."

So that was thirty minutes ago, and I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs waiting for Cilia, who was cabbing it back from Liz's and I suddenly had a thought about the Albanian case.

It had to be someone from New York who called out John by name. Whether it's the email guy or someone else entirely, it still had to originate from here, right?

 _Although he probably is fairly well known, world-wide,_ I decided thoughtfully. But in _this_ context? By Albanian mafia?

No, it would stand to reason that it came from here. Which means someone had to contact Detroit, and something like that wouldn't happen in an email. It'd be a phone call, possibly one burner to another, but still…it would've happened a little over a week ago. And then again just this past week, when a dollar amount was attached.

I got up from the couch and went over to my Mac, where it's plugged up on the kitchen table, and I got busy.

"If I isolate the cell tower traffic, looking for 313 area code for incoming," I mumbled as I began working a twister. "Outgoing would be…shit, a fucking tonnage, right? 212, 646, 917…"

"347, 718…"

I looked up sharply to see Cilia standing across from me, having just come into the kitchen, and holy shit, I can literally feel my IQ bottoming out.

"Hi," I said, and I know I sound like a dork, but I can't help it, and I can't help the big, goofy smile, either, but lucky for me, she's smiling back.

"What are we doing?" she asked as she came around to look at the screen. "New York area codes?"

"Yeah, um…how did it go with Liz? Everything okay?"

"It was great. She's amazing, like you said. I'm so glad I'm getting the chance to know her. And you know," she replied, touching my shoulder to get me to scoot back a little, so I did and then she sat down on my lap, with one leg on either side of me, and her beautiful eyes staring straight into mine. "I have you to thank for that. You came over to King's that night, just to stand up for her, to tell me how great she is."

"Yeah, but when I saw you, I almost chickened out," I admitted.

"Why?" she asked softly as she ran her fingers through my hair.

"Because you're sofa king, right?" I answered, and then because I want to make sure there's no mistaking my point, I amended, "So fucking beautiful."

She smiled fully and then kissed me, and as many times as we've done this before, it never gets old, and I get why people like Lupo snag up women like the ten and commit to forever because this right here is what life's all about, right?

And I'll admit it.

It took me another hour before I got back to writing my program. Because I mean, come on…we're down to our last twelve hours, and I don't want to waste a single one of them, but since I did need a little bit of recharging time, we sat together at the kitchen table and went back to work on the Mac.

"So tell me again what we're doing?"

"I was thinking I could isolate the call log from any New York number to any Detroit number during a few specific days, and have it spit out some numbers to compare."

" _Some_ numbers?" she asked in amusement. "And the only parameters are outgoing New York and incoming Detroit?"

"Well, and cells, not landlines."

"We can tweak the parms to signal dupes on either end, don't you think? That might help."

"Uh huh, and if we slim the digits on the front end…"

"Exactly."

I got it up and running and then sat back and looked at her, where she's sitting in a chair she dragged over next to mine. She's in my X-Files t-shirt again, and nothing else, and as she reached up to gracefully adjust her glasses, I found myself smiling. _Again_.

"What?" she asked, sounding slightly self-conscious.

"I'm just remembering how many times, back when I lived in my mom's basement, I dreamed about a woman just like you. Except I figured she didn't exist, and that it was probably smarter for me to just stay where I was and fantasize rather than attempt the real world and be disappointed. But here you are, gorgeous and smart and funny and…and… _here_."

"I'm really glad I'm here. I hate that I have to go back home tomorrow. I'm going to miss you."

"We'll take turns," I offered. "Every other weekend."

"Or I could keep coming here," she countered. "I like it here, and all of your friends are here."

She tipped her head towards my Mac, which was powering through millions of digits by the second, and then said, "And clearly they need you."

"They'd be okay without me," I deflected, but I really like what she said and the sweet way she said it.

I wanted to ask her if she's for real, because I mean seriously, we're sitting at my kitchen table on a Saturday night, watching my program run its course, and there's no TV on or music playing, or anything, it's just us, mostly naked and thoroughly content. I can't imagine a better evening.

But I didn't ask because she smiled at me as she turned fully towards me, and my attention was caught by the way my t-shirt didn't exactly move with her, so even though it's fairly long on her, now I'm looking at ninety-eight percent of her thighs, and they're perfect and I can't look away, but then she reached for my hand, sliding her fingers through mine, and I brought my eyes up to hers as she said, "Maybe they would, but I wouldn't."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Liz**_


	19. Chapter 19

**Liz POV**

* * *

It's three o'clock in the morning, and I can't sleep.

I'm comfortable enough, with Danny's arm around me. He drifted off about thirty minutes ago, so now he's breathing steadily, sound asleep, but it's still escaping me.

I'm not sure why because even though there's plenty going on in my life, nothing is overly upsetting. Or not any more than usual, I should say.

I mean, there's Nancy. Jeremy. Aaron. Mulder. Cecilia. The Gorens and Logans. Lauren. John. Mary.

Jeez, okay, so I guess I get why I'm not out cold.

Typically when stressors are keeping me awake, I can let my mind explore the subject fully and come up with a resolution, and then I can often move past it.

So…

Nancy.

We arrived in Albany a little before four on Friday afternoon, more than two hours before the scheduled ceremony.

After her initial shrieking over Jeremy's appearance, she started in on me.

 _"No wonder you work on dead people. That's the best you could clean him up?"_

 _"There's only so much that can be done with abrasions,_ " I responded calmly, grateful that Danny had pulled into a pub on the outskirts of town, treating me to a glass of wine before facing off with his ex.

 _"Still,"_ she scoffed. " _His face looks ridiculous."_

 _"Which is much more important than whether or not he's okay."_

 _"What do you mean? Of course he's okay. He's standing right over there."_

I glanced over at Jeremy, where he stood talking with Danny, and I felt a wave of love and protectiveness wash over me. _He watched over Lauren, trying to catch a serial killer before he could go after her._ What kind of nineteen year old does that? And then he got dropped by his girlfriend for his efforts. And nagged by his mother. Poor kid. I'm glad Danny went easy on him, and I'm glad that Aaron's going to be with us for the foreseeable future. He'll be good for Jeremy. I have no doubt the two of them will find trouble, but that's what teenage boys do.

 _"Aaron has no business moving to the city with you people,"_ Nancy said, pulling me back into the nasty conversation.

 _"It's his choice."_

 _"I'm sure you had nothing to do with it,_ " she sniped. " _You didn't entice him with the promise of a summer internship? Do you honestly think it's healthy for him to want to spend time in a morgue? For God's sake, there's dead people in there._ "

I bit back a laugh at her absurd comment, and instead said, _"Which is it you're more upset over, Nancy? That he'll be working in a morgue? Or spending time with me?_ "

" _Both,_ " she asserted vehemently. _"Equally. Look how you've poisoned Jeremy."_

That's when I lost it a little bit.

" _Poisoned him? I've done nothing but love him, and help him try to turn his life around, which is more than I can say for you. All you do is belittle and degrade him, picking apart every little thing he's ever done wrong rather than appreciate what a wonderful man he's grown into."_

All of this was said in a venomous, low tone as I did my best to tower over her, wanting to intimidate her, hoping to make her feel as insignificant as she makes Jeremy feel.

But it didn't work. She's too hateful.

 _"He was a goddamn murder suspect a little over a month ago. He was on drugs, and drinking…having premarital, unprotected sex…"_

 _"You want to bring up sins, Nancy, is that it?"_ I fired back, my voice not quite so low any more, but I lost the ability to care. " _How about we start with adultery?"_

 _"You want to talk adultery?"_ she challenged.

 _"You like to forget that I'm not the one who cheated, so if you want to compare indiscretions, maybe I should let you get a head start."_

 _"No,"_ she said quickly. " _Look, all I'm saying is that Aaron doesn't need to be around that kind of bad influence from his brother."_

 _"Jeremy went through a rough patch, and he's come out of it better than ever. Not everyone chooses to drown in their mistakes."_

 _"What the hell does that mean?"_

 _"Whatever you think it means,"_ I retorted, and by this point, we were nose to nose, and Danny was coming over to intervene.

 _"Liz,"_ he said softly, putting his hand on my arm, and the anger rolling through me was only barely curtailed by his touch. But it was enough. That, and the sight of Jeremy, watching the two of us argue.

 _"I'm sorry,"_ I said to Jeremy.

 _"You don't need to be sorry,"_ he said purposefully, glaring at his mother.

 _"That's right, take her side. You always do,"_ Nancy said, and then she turned around and walked away. I exhaled heavily, dropping my eyes to the floor as I attempted to check my temper.

 _"She pushed the right buttons. I'm so sorry, Jeremy."_

 _"It's cool, Liz. She has a knack for it, and we all knew it was coming."_

 _"I should've gotten you a second glass of wine,"_ Danny said quietly, and Jeremy started chuckling.

 _"You really put her in her place. She needs a head start on indiscretions?"_

 _"I shouldn't have said that."_

 _"Why not? It's true. She wants to crucify me for everything I've ever done wrong, but she won't accept responsibility for what she does. Aaron will be much better off with us than with her."_

I tend to agree with him, but I still felt bad about the scene I was a part of, even if I didn't start it. Although the ceremony went off without a hitch, and I teared up watching Aaron get his diploma, just as proud as any mother would be. Afterwards, he spent an hour or so with his mother, and then we picked him up at his house, where he already had his bags packed, waiting by the front door. We were on the road back to the city by eleven.

So it was a late night Friday night, but we all slept like babies.

Saturday morning, Danny started off the day with a call from Carolyn Logan.

 _"It always worries me when it's her,_ " he remarked after showing me the display.

 _"You think she's making the call to smooth ruffled feathers?"_

 _"Definitely, only I don't even know why I'm ruffled yet_ ," he said, but he was smiling when he said it, and then he answered the call.

Turns out, they did a little bit of case reassignment last night, without consulting the boss beforehand, in order to free up the Logans and Gorens for going to Detroit.

 _"That sounds…not safe,"_ I remarked after he filled me in.

 _"I should've thought of it myself. If I'd given it a moment's consideration, I would've known they would do something like this."_

 _"You're upset with them?"_

 _"No, I'm worried for them."_

 _"So Lupo and Bernard are working on the Flowers case?"_

 _"As it relates to Jeremy, yes."_

 _"That's a distinction only the chief of D's would make,_ " I said smartly, pulling another smile from him.

 _"I don't think anyone's going to care who catches that guy as long as he's off the streets."_

 _"Amen to that. I'll be tickled to death to have him rolled into my morgue."_

 _"Liz,"_ he admonished.

 _"What? I'm just saying,"_ I said with a shrug. He walked over to me, where I stood next to the coffee pot, and he pinned me pleasurably against the kitchen counter with his body.

 _"You're bad,"_ he said huskily as his lips went to my neck.

 _"It's bad of me to wish that lowlife dead? I have to disagree with you on this one. In fact, I don't just wish him dead, I hope Lauren's the one to pull the trigger. Get that girl some justice and vindication."_

 _"Liz,"_ he said again.

 _"What?"_

 _"Don't go rogue on me when I'm trying to seduce you. I don't want to have to stop and point out the illegalities of your thinking."_

 _"You're trying to seduce me?"_ I teased, even though my eyes are closed and I'm enjoying the attention quite a bit. " _Work a little harder."_

He chuckled and then slid his hand beneath my shirt as he pressed his hips into mine, and I sighed his name just a moment before the kitchen door opened.

 _"Didn't I tell you, A?"_ Jeremy said loudly. " _God, Dad, not in the kitchen, okay? At least not at a meal time when any poor unsuspecting guy might walk in and see something he shouldn't."_

Danny extracted his hand and then turned around, and we found both boys standing in the doorway, looking simultaneously amused and grossed out.

" _Okay, you know what?_ " I said, moving away from Danny to get out the skillet. " _You both want to be treated like adults, so here you go. Yes, we have an active sex life, and we appreciate showing each other affection on a regular basis. It's not a crime, and it doesn't belong on_ _Unsolved Mysteries_ _, so get over it."_

 _"Jeez, Liz, I was just messing with you,_ " Jeremy said with a grin.

 _"Yeah,"_ Aaron agreed, looking not quite as sure as his brother, but following his lead. " _I mean, go Dad, right?"_

I shook my head and held back my laughter, and then the four of us got down to the business of making breakfast, so aside from my slight worry over the happenings in Detroit, it was a great morning.

And then in the afternoon, Cecilia called me.

 _"I'm in town for the weekend, and Mulder said your boys are coming to hang with him for a little bit this evening, so I thought it would be a good time for us to catch up. I mean, if you want to. And if you have time."_

Which is how I ended up spending my Saturday evening back in my kitchen, splitting a bottle of wine with the daughter I never had.

 _"It was fun, getting into the case with Inspector Dunn, trying to figure out a way my computer skills might help her catch her guy,_ " she admitted. _"It makes writing code seem so…dull. And you know, I never thought I'd say something like that because I love the creativity behind what I do, and yet I'm starting to realize that I'm only barely touching on the surface of my capabilities, right?"_

 _"I guess I don't need to ask if you were of help to her,"_ I said in amusement, and then I added, " _And I'm sure she told you to call her Jennifer."_

 _"She did, but she's a United States Marshal,"_ she said in awe. " _I can't believe I actually met one in person, and she was so…I don't know. Cool. And beautiful. And smart. God, how does one person get so many great qualities?"_

" _Seems to me you got all of those qualities, too,"_ I pointed out, but she merely rolled her eyes at me in denial.

 _"Smart, yes,"_ she agreed. " _That's about it. But yes, I think I did help her. I guess I can't be sure yet, but I'll be curious to hear how it all pans out. Do you think she'll tell me? Or will she mind if I email her or something, to ask about it?"_

 _"She won't mind at all. She's very nice, and I'm sure she's appreciative of any suggestion you offered. Even if it doesn't lead to a suspect, it may shift their focus, which then might lead to a suspect."_

 _"It's just so fascinating,"_ she said with a wondrous smile. _"You know, I really feel so lucky to have found you, and I can't tell you enough how much it means to me that you've welcomed me into your life. You didn't have to."_

 _"I didn't,"_ I agreed. " _But I'm glad I did. And now you're dating Mulder…how's that going?"_

 _"He's so….wow. I don't even know how to describe him. He's awesome. And so sweet and genuine. I had no idea men could be so…I don't know. Honest. That hasn't been my experience at all up until now."_

 _"He has excellent role models, and a strong desire to be a good man,"_ I mused.

 _"He is already,"_ she responded.

 _"So I'm guessing it won't be long before I see you again?"_

 _"That's my plan. We'll see how it goes."_

She left after an hour or so, and her spark and happiness is just so contagious that I found myself in a wonderful mood, so I went in search of my husband, who'd made himself scarce during her visit to allow us some girl talk.

 _"You're working?"_ I asked when I found him at his desk in the den.

 _"Just looking over the joint USMS-NYPD casefile. The interrogation transcripts and investigative notes."_

 _"Christina? That case?"_

 _"And everyone else,"_ he agreed. " _I just thought I'd see if there was any little detail that we missed, something that might help them in Detroit."_

 _"And? Anything?"_

 _"Not so far,"_ he admitted.

So I pulled up a chair and sat next to him, reading through the case notes and providing him a sounding board for his thoughts and theories.

Before I knew it, it was after midnight.

Jeremy had sent me a text a few hours before, not long after Cecilia left, letting me know that he and Aaron were going out, and that they'd be home by twelve-thirty.

" _You think they'll be late on their first night out together?"_ Danny asked, having noticed me looking at the clock.

 _"No. I just worry. Mulder wasn't with them."_

 _"So Mulder is the responsible party in the bunch?"_ he asked, barely holding back a smile.

 _"They know I can pump him for information and he won't be able to lie."_

He barked out a laugh and said, " _Jeremy won't lie to you either. And I'm not sure about Aaron yet, but give him time, and he'll learn to be honest, too."_

 _"True,_ " I said, and that's when I heard the front door opening, and then I had to laugh when I heard Jeremy say to Aaron, " _Be loud. That way they'll stop what they're doing before we see anything."_

So then the front door slammed, and their footsteps were heavy as they went first to the living room, and then the kitchen, before finally appearing in the doorway of the den.

 _"You're working? Like, real work, not that other kind of work?_ " Jeremy questioned in surprise.

" _Just helping out friends,"_ Danny deflected. " _So did you have fun?"_

 _"It was okay,"_ Jeremy answered, while Aaron said, " _Yeah, it was pretty awesome. So much better than Albany, right? But I'm beat, so I'm going to head on up to bed."_

He's not a hugger, at least not yet, so he basically just gave us a nod goodnight, and then he disappeared from the doorway. Jeremy lingered, so I invited him in to sit with us.

 _"Anything you want to talk about?"_ I asked.

 _"No, everything's fine."_

 _"But?"_

He sighed heavily and slouched down in the chair.

 _"I totally struck out tonight. I mean, left and right, you know? And everyone's got somebody, even Mulder, and it just kind of sucks."_

 _"You had a girlfriend until yesterday,_ " Danny pointed out.

 _"You can't rush it,"_ I added. " _You're a good-looking guy, and you've got a lot going for you. The right girl will come along soon enough."_

He was quiet for a long minute, and then he said, _"What if I had her? What if Kelly was it, and now she's gone, and what if I never find anyone else?"_

His sadness nearly broke my heart, and I was up and out of my chair in a second, motioning him up so that I could pull him into a hug.

" _You will, I promise,"_ I soothed.

 _"But you can't know that."_

 _"Liz knows everything,"_ Danny said, and his voice was just near my ear, so I eased back and let him step in to hug his son. I'm proud of him for being involved, and staying in the hard conversation.

They held each other for a minute, and then stepped back, and I was happy to see Jeremy looking a little less despondent.

 _"Aaron was on his game, and girls were chatting him up all night, while I just stood there like a Dilbert, you know what I'm saying?"_

 _"You're looking for the right woman. Aaron's looking for any woman. Makes a big difference,_ " I remarked, and he gave me a small smile and a nod.

 _"That's true. I think I just…I mean, I know what I want, I just don't know where to find her."_

 _"Take a step back and don't overthink it,"_ I said. " _Have some fun for a little while, and before you know it, she'll be right there in front of you."_

He nodded again, and then he looked at me curiously and said, " _Wait, are you telling me I need to get laid?"_

 _"What kind of mother would I be if I gave that advice?"_ I said with a grin. _"Just remember…"_

 _"Safe sex,"_ he finished with a heavy eye roll.

 _"And next time you go out, don't use your little brother as a wingman. He's got way more game than you,"_ Danny teased.

 _"I know, right? How'd that happen?"_ Jeremy laughed. " _So, hey, does that mean you want to go with me sometime, Dad?"_

 _"I'm not sure how to take that. So I don't have game?"_

 _"Well, you got Liz so you must be alright, but…"_

We joked around for another minute or two, and then hugged Jeremy goodnight and he went up to bed.

" _You think he's going to be okay?"_ Danny asked me.

 _"Better than that, even,_ " I answered, moving into Danny's embrace. _"You didn't ask them if they were drinking."_

 _"No. You think they were?"_

 _"Yes. But not too much."_

 _"Nothing gets past you, does it? And were you really telling him to have meaningless sex?"_

 _"I don't think he got that far with Natalie yet,_ " I reasoned. " _Which means he hasn't slept with anyone since Kelly. He needs to go out and have fun and not be so serious all the time. He wants so much to be a man that he's not enjoying being nineteen."_

 _"You're a great mom, Liz,"_ he said softly, still holding me tight. _"A little unorthodox maybe, but still great."_

I thought about his words as I shifted in the bed, still unable to doze off even now, at three-thirty.

I'm not sure if I'm a great mom or not, but I do love the hell out of those boys. I can't understand how Nancy turned on them. How any mom could treat their kid the way she treats Jeremy. She's been better with Aaron, but I'm sure that'll end now that he's living with us. It's like she begrudges them having their own minds, their own opinions and dreams.

 _Like Lauren's mom_ , I thought. That woman has wasted more than a dozen years of her daughter's life being bitter about her choice to become a detective. I wonder if Lauren's told her yet, that she has a husband. The idea that maybe she hasn't has me smiling in the darkness. The woman doesn't deserve to know. Doesn't deserve a daughter as wonderful as Lauren.

I feel so bad for her, having to deal with Flowers' escape. I wasn't kidding when I told Danny that I hope she's the one to catch him. And by catch him, I mean with her service weapon. I've never fudged an autopsy in my entire life, but if he showed up on my table, I'd write whatever needed to be said, just to make sure she'd be in the clear.

"Stop," Danny murmured, pulling me closer to him.

I thought at first that he was dreaming, but then he said, "Turn it off."

"I'll just get up," I said on a sigh. "I don't want to keep you awake, and I can't seem to relax. There's too much on my mind."

"You're not going anywhere," he argued lightly, his voice just a quiet rumble in the dark.

"Danny?" I asked, questioning his remark.

"If you need help shutting off your brain, then let me help you."

"You don't have to…"

But then his lips found mine, and his hand slipped beneath my tank top, and all of the names that were floating around in my brain suddenly whittled down to just one.

Danny.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Mary**_


	20. Chapter 20

**Mary POV**

* * *

"I think I'm going blind."

I laughed as I responded, "You know what they say about that, right?"

"Going blind?"

"It happens when you masturbate too much."

"What?" Jennifer asked loudly, and now we're both laughing, and I mean not just a little bit, but hard, to the point where tears start rolling down her face.

A clear sign we've been working too long, and not getting enough sleep.

It's Sunday evening, and we're in a conference room at the Millennium, wanting the quiet as well as the room to spread out, without being too far away from John, who also had some work to do today, so he's upstairs and we're here, and we're going on hour six, which isn't really a lot, but considering the week we've had, and that it's six hours spent going through the miles of printouts offered us by Mulder and Cecilia, well…yeah, I can see why she thinks she's going blind, and not for the reason I said.

But we're still laughing, and she's trying to talk through it, saying something like if that were the case, she'd have lost her sight during that week she _wasn't_ sleeping with Mike, and of course, that's when the subject of her remark walked into the room.

"I can tell you guys are hard at it," he said, smiling like people do when they stumble across laughter and have no idea why. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing even remotely as funny as it seems," I finally managed to say.

He looked dubious, but Jennifer stood up, smiling as she shook her head in dismissal of our silliness, mumbling _I'll tell you later_ just before kissing him hello.

And it wasn't a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'm not sure, but I think I'm too young to see that," I remarked, looking away after watching the first several seconds, and shifting my focus to the papers spread out all over the table.

"Then don't keep me away from him all day on a Sunday anymore," Jennifer retorted smartly when they finished.

God, she sounds exactly like me.

"Come on, Austin. Ten more minutes, okay? It's in here, I know it."

"So no luck?" Mike asked affably, pulling up a chair when Jennifer sat back down.

"There's just so much," I said with a shake of my head. "I mean, the crap someone looks at, _not_ on their own computer, I might add…it just amazes me."

"Porn," Jennifer stated. "Lots of porn."

"Seriously?" he asked in surprise. "In a public café?"

"Yeah, you do all your porn browsing in the privacy of your own home, right?" I joked.

"Definitely," he deadpanned, causing Jennifer to raise an eyebrow at him, making him clarify, "I'm kidding. What grown man looks at porn?"

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow, so he added, "I mean, what grown man who…oh, never mind. I don't have the time or inclination to look at it. How's that?"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Counselor. Whatever floats your boat."

"I don't…" he started, but Jennifer put her hand on his arm and shook her head.

"Let it go," she said with a grin. "She's never going to let you win that one."

"She's right, I won't," I gloated, even though I actually did stop teasing. Instead, I'm looking at the piles and piles of paperwork. "God, I even had to make notes for my notes," I grumbled. "I mean, I appreciate that Mulder and Cecilia wanted to help us out, but it's just _so_ much."

"So they pulled all this stuff for you? No warrants?" Mike asked, and if I didn't know better, I might've thought he was being judgmental. But I do know better.

"We don't need no stinkin' warrants," I joked, but then I explained, "It's citizens doing due diligence, offering us information they found on the web. And maybe that won't hold up in court, or maybe it will, I don't know, but either way, it's going to help us find the guy."

Mike nodded, and didn't push any further on the issue. I mean, come on, he committed felony B & E last weekend. For a good cause, of course, but still - that means he understands that sometimes we have to be creative, and that definitely makes him alright in my book.

And as happy as Jennifer's been, all week but especially this weekend…yeah, I like the guy.

And I really like how he obviously knows her so well already. She told me what happened with the _I love you_ exchange yesterday, and how he was brave enough to put himself out there.

 _"It's like he wasn't afraid for me to know how he feels, how much he wanted to hear me say the words,"_ she said while we stood in the Rikers parking lot, waiting on Connie.

 _"So you did say it, right?_ " I pressed.

 _"Well, yeah,_ " she said with a contented smile. " _I mean, I do, so…"_

 _"You did last week, too, Austin,_ " I griped good-naturedly. " _You were just too chicken-shit to say it."_

 _"It's crazy, Mary. I mean, how long has it been since I first laid eyes on the man? And yet I'm in love with him already?"_

 _"I was working a case in Denver. John's supposedly ten years dead fiancée who was actually in Witsec,"_ I told her. _"It's a long story, but the Gorens were out there investigating, and he joined them, and even though I was supposed to be all about business the first night I met him, all I could think about was how much I wanted him."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"You have no idea,_ " I asserted. " _He and I had a few drinks, and some frank conversation, and somehow, I managed to go back to my room alone, but the dream I had about him…holy shit."_

 _"And you waited two months to sleep with him? I mean, that's what you told me a couple of weeks ago. Is that really how it went?"_

 _"I dragged him into my hotel room, while we were still in Denver, and I had every intention of sleeping with him that night, but something made me stop. I'm not sure what it was because I don't have that kind of alarm system, you know?"_

She hummed her agreement and we both stared off into la-la land, each lost in our own thoughts until the sound of Connie's car a few spaces over brought us back to reality.

 _"So you're not crazy,"_ I told her firmly. " _Don't analyze it. Just…be in love and enjoy it."_

Twenty minutes after that, we were inside of Rikers, our weapons and cell phones confiscated. It always makes me feel naked to be without my gun, but when Lupo called and told us about Connie's visit, there was no way in hell I was going to let her do it alone. I mean, she's a lawyer. And I know, Schmenke's a lawyer, too, but he's a scummy lawyer, with friends like Flowers, and Connie's just so _nice_.

 _"Mrs. Lupo,"_ Schmenke said with a smile, completely ignoring me and Jennifer. _"I was hoping you'd come see me."_

 _"Why? It's not like I'm going to help you."_

 _"I'm in prison. Can you blame me for wanting to look at a beautiful woman?"_ he answered.

God, he's just as creepy as Flowers. Well, almost.

 _"Okay, you looked,"_ I said sharply as I moved between him and Connie. " _Now answer her questions."_

 _"What's in it for me?"_

 _"For you?"_ Jennifer fired back, taking a position next to me. _"Jack shit, that's what you get. But why don't you ask me what you get if you don't help us?"_

 _"What are you three, fucking Charlie's Angels or something?"_ he retorted.

 _"That's right,"_ I agreed, and then I looked at my partner and said, _"Which angel was it that had poor impulse control?"_

 _"All of them,"_ Connie answered for her, and then she moved up next to Jennifer so that we were all three side by side.

And yeah, so Connie's tougher than she looks. I knew that, but I tend to forget it because, like I said, she's just so damn _nice_.

 _"So tell us how to find your friend,"_ she continued. _"Where would he have gone, if he couldn't get his hands on the IDs you cooked up for him?"_

 _"How should I know?"_

" _Because you've been helping him. You told him where Detective Hayes works. You told him where she lives. And you tried to provide him the means for a clean getaway,"_ Connie said harshly. _"So don't sit there and act like you don't know where he might go!"_

 _"Let's say I do know,"_ he proposed. _"Why the hell would I tell you? The feds have been harassing me all week."_

I was about to offer an appropriate threat, but then Connie leaned over the table and said, _"Because I know people. Connected people. I say the right thing to the right person, and you don't exist anymore. Do you hear what I'm saying, you slimy little bastard?"_

We walked out of Rikers with a handful of leads, places Flowers might hole up or friends he might contact for help.

 _"You know people?"_ Jennifer asked in amusement.

 _"I was thinking about Shane O'Connor,"_ she said, her voice once again back to her typical sweet, innocent tone. _"Logan said he stopped one man from killing another just by pretending he might drop a dime to the mob boss, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to try it."_

 _"You've got balls, Counselor,"_ I said with a grin. _"I like that. Austin has them every once in a while, but you…"_

 _"Hey, I have them all the time,"_ Jennifer argued playfully.

 _"Really? All the time? How long did it take you to fess up to her boss?"_ I said, tipping my head towards Connie, and enjoying watching Jennifer squirm.

 _"I heard about that,_ " Connie said with a smile.

 _"He told you?"_

 _"I pushed him,"_ she admitted. _"But he didn't really have to say anything. He was sitting around in the office with this big grin on his face. I figured it was either love, or…really good sex."_

 _"Oh, well, it was both,"_ Jennifer replied, causing Connie to laugh.

 _"I feel like we need a girls' night already,"_ she said. _"I think I'm ready for details."_

 _"About how your boss is in the sack?"_ I joked.

 _"Not that specifically, but…oh, you know what I mean."_

 _"Yeah, you know, let's catch Flowers and the mystery emailer, and then we'll make it happen,"_ Jennifer said.

So that's the plan.

I haven't heard yet if any of Connie's leads panned out for Lupo and Bernard, but I'm sure I would've heard if they'd caught him, so…it's still ongoing. And of course, we're still working these emails.

But I suppose enough is enough, for one day.

"Okay, let's call it," I said.

Jennifer nodded, and got to her feet, but I could see that her attention was still on a stack, the most recent acquisition, the stack of printouts of cell to cell calls, New York to Detroit.

"Hey, from where was Thursday's email sent?" she asked suddenly. "And what time? Exactly?"

Her tone was crisp and professional, and I didn't waste time asking why she wanted the information. In fact, I have a feeling she already knows the answer because hell, we've both practically memorized all of this crap. I'm pretty sure I know the answer, too, but I still found the right document and read it aloud.

"Midtown, W. 39th and 7th. Eleven-twelve a.m."

"Get this. A New York burner called a Michigan burner at eleven-oh-seven, and it went off a tower three blocks away. The call lasted four minutes."

"And a minute later, the email went out," I mumbled.

"Hang on, it could be…" Mike started, but then Jennifer flipped the pages of her printout and said, "The same New York burner called a different Michigan phone on the Thursday before."

"When the 187 went out. Holy shit."

"We need to run the burner, find out where it was purchased, who else was called," Jennifer said excitedly, and then she looked at Mike and said, "I'm sorry, but dinner's going to have to wait."

"I'll bring it to you," he said quickly, not seeming the least bit upset about his ruined plans. "To both of you."

"Great," I said distractedly, my eyes still on Jennifer. "How can this be? We ruled out the connection. And _who_ could it be? Everyone here who matters is in prison. No visitors, no phone calls…what's going on?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But they _are_ connected."

"Uh huh," I agreed with growing excitement. "And we're going to catch the son of a bitch."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Logan**_


	21. Chapter 21

**Logan POV**

* * *

I had images of going all cowboy. Of strolling into town with my six-shooter and systematically taking down all of the bad guys.

Less picturesque was the supposed reality of it. I figured they'd contracted a guy. I'd lure him out, by pretending to be John, and then we'd arrest him and hand him over to the DPD.

Then we'd get out the message that a hit on John was akin to a hit on the NYPD, and whoever made the effort was going to spend the rest of his life in jail.

We figured the interest would fizzle and the Detroit guys would decide to leave New York alone.

Of course, all that was based on the hit being about the arrests we made. Rama. Demachi. Brozi. That was assuming someone, somewhere knew it was John who set them up, putting the wheels of arrest in motion, and that someone reached out for a favor.

But it's not looking like that's what happened. Not if there were _a lot of takers_ , as O'Connor put it. It wouldn't be me luring out the guy. It would be me facing off a whole _lot_ of guys.

So we spent Saturday evening strategizing in the hotel bar.

"We need to spread the word that the contract's been pulled," Bobby suggested. "There won't be any payout."

"It'll sort out the true believers," Alex added as explanation. "If there are any."

"You think people are only interested in the money? Then why the 187 chatter?"

"But that's just it, it was only chatter. No one was motivated enough to do anything about it. Fifty grand would've more than covered gas money to New York," Carolyn said.

I took a long drink from my beer and thought about it for a moment. Rationally, which is something I've struggled to do since hearing the latest, about the price on John's head.

"If it came from high-up in the family, there wouldn't be money attached," I said at last. "It would've been an order."

"It would get done out of honor. Respect. The possibility of getting made," Bobby agreed with a nod.

"So the money means…what? It's not related to the gang?"

"If that's true, we need to tell them they're being played," Alex suggested. "Somebody's trying to set them up, to use them. That'll take away the possibility of someone wanting to still go through with anything."

"Let's walk through it," Bobby said.

"If it's not someone from the gang, then who does that leave us with?"

"Well, if someone _did_ hack Mary's computer, stealthily rather than how they did John's, then they'd have her case files."

"They'd know the Albanians were a sore spot for her. A potential weakness."

"Mary doesn't have any weakness," I replied.

"John," Carolyn stated calmly. "He's her weakness. And having him threatened would make her come unglued."

"It'd make her focus all of her energy on the threat."

"Except she didn't," Bobby said. "She stayed on the emails."

"And then the threat escalated with the offer of money."

"But she's still not here. We are," I pointed out.

"Someone wanted her here?"

"Or not there."

"God, this is making my head hurt. Can't we just go roust up the entire Albanian mafia and call it a night?" I said.

"You know, I think we coordinate with the DEA contact in town, and see how we can do exactly that. We're still licensed investigators. We can be involved in something official without worrying about jurisdiction."

So I made the call to Agent Palmer, the friend of Agent Winfield, and arranged a sit-down for Sunday morning.

"You think she'll be on board with it? I mean, they've been listening to these guys for ten months, and now we want to pull the trigger on the busts?"

"She sounded grateful that we weren't going to go in with guns blazing, on our own. I think they're ready. You know the DEA. If they don't want to do something, they don't do it."

"So we can take down the bulk of the gang, and eliminate the threat, all in one fell swoop," Alex said with a smile. "I like the sound of that."

"Hopefully. Assuming they really do want to play ball."

They did.

Sunday morning, over a spread of doughnuts and bananas and coffee, the four of us met with Palmer, plus five more DEA agents who've been working the drug angle on the Albanians, and we made a plan to decimate the organization.

"If you had this much information, what were you waiting for?" Bobby asked Palmer, voicing what we were all thinking.

"We were ready two weeks ago, but then they went almost completely silent, when the New York faction fell," she explained. "We wanted to give them a little bit of time to feel comfortable again, to settle back into their routine so that we were sure not to miss anyone."

"So it's just our good fortune that they got comfortable at the same time fifty grand was tagged to John's name," I said.

"Yes and no," she answered. "I think I agree with your friends. If it were an order, there wouldn't be money involved. I think someone's using the Albanians. Someone not associated with the gang."

Her unbiased assessment makes me believe it even more, but that also leaves me with mixed emotions. If it's someone else entirely, then what's to stop them from trying again, using someone else to carry out the hit? And what if they try that, only this time we don't have anyone listening, to tip us off?

Don't get me wrong, taking down another gang of violent drug dealers is always a good thing, and I'm happy to be a part of it. But at the same time, I feel we aren't any closer to resolving John's issue.

After spending the day with the DEA and the DPD, coordinating our sting for Monday morning, the four of us went back to the hotel, where we once again descended upon the hotel bar in search of sustenance, and while we were there, I made a call to O'Connor.

"It looks like it's going to be a standard takedown," I told him, not wanting him to mobilize any local Irish to keep an eye on me.

"You're giving me the blow-by-blow on police procedure, is that it, my boy?" he asked in amusement. "Would you mind spending some time working in Boston, then? That might help me a little more."

I barked out a laugh, because I know he's not being serious, and then I said, "You know why I'm telling you. And for the record, if we were going after the Irish, I wouldn't be making this call."

"That's because you're an honest man, Mike Logan," he replied, with something that sounds like pride. "And I thank you for letting me know. I have some boys keeping an ear to the ground for me, just in case, but it's good to know there won't be any bullets flying anywhere near you."

"Well, I didn't say that," I joked. "Just that our strategy has changed."

"So the hit's a wash, is that it?"

"Not necessarily, but we have our doubts. I'll explain more after we get back."

"That you will, my boy. Another weekend in Boston will do you good."

I promised to make the trip when time permits, and then ended the call.

"I hope he's not tapped," I said wryly. "IAB might not get his sense of humor."

"I had the same thought when I called him," Alex admitted.

"I'm sure he'd know, if he were," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, it's funny how feds always think they're being so sneaky, listening in on mafia guys, but nine times out of ten, it's common knowledge," Alex remarked.

"I guess it's that one time that makes it worth it," Bobby said.

The waitress came to our table, bringing us a fresh round of drinks, so then I said, "Okay, guys, my brain is maxed out on this whole thing, so let's see if we can go one solid hour without talking about work."

Everyone agreed, but after about two minutes, no one was talking, and as we all realized what was happening, we started laughing.

"What are we supposed to talk about?" Carolyn asked with a smile. Her hand is clasped in mine, and she's pressed against me in the booth, and I'm once again hit with such a strong feeling of love for her. It's nearly overwhelming. I still have trouble sometimes, believing that we're _here_.

"Alright, work talk," I conceded. "But not _current_ work. Old stuff. Good memories."

"Chicago," Bobby said.

"Are you kidding me?" Alex responded. "You mean, Chicago where you got shot, and nearly bled out all over Mike?"

"Chicago where I got my ass whipped in a jail cell?" I added, going along with Alex's incredulity.

But Bobby just smiled, and Carolyn started nodding in agreement, and then she said, "Chicago where we took down Carver. God, that was so much fun."

"Yeah, okay, that was pretty great," Alex said, finally smiling, too.

"I wonder how he's enjoying prison life," I mused.

"About as much as Moran, I imagine," Bobby said. "Another good memory."

"Uh huh. That's the case where I nearly drowned," I pointed out.

"Your glass is always half empty, isn't it?" Carolyn teased. "That's the case when I asked you to marry me."

"In a text message," I said, feigning disappointment. And it's definitely just a tease, because I still remember how I felt when I read her text. Absolutely euphoric.

"Don't let him fool you," Alex said. "He was so excited about your text that he completely forgot he can't hold his liquor. I drank him under the table that night."

"Yes, you did," I admitted. "That hangover still hurts a little. But it was worth it."

After my words, I leaned down to kiss my wife, hoping the action would properly express my love and gratitude over having her in my life.

The way she smiled at me after I pulled back says that maybe I succeeded. But just in case, I'll have to be sure to show her a little more, after we get back to our hotel room.

That thought had me pondering how quickly we could pay the check, but before I could signal the waitress, my phone rang, and I checked the display to see that it's Mary.

"It's connected to the emails," she stated firmly, bypassing the formality of a greeting altogether.

"How do you know?" I asked, putting her on speaker and then setting the phone on the table.

"We have record of a single burner in New York making calls to two different Michigan numbers, once each, on the days associated with the 187 and the fifty K."

"That's a stretch," Bobby said skeptically. "How many people in New York made calls to someone in Michigan on those same days?"

"Don't even ask me that question," Mary said on a sigh. "We're in phone log hell at the moment, but I'm telling you…it fits."

"Okay, but how does that fit with the emails?"

"The tower signal correlates with the location of the sent email, the one from last Thursday. The person who made that call was within a three-block radius of the internet café where the email went out."

We all looked at each other as we considered the new information.

"So this is all a distraction," Carolyn said after another moment. "Detroit. The Albanians. It's a red herring."

"Meant to get you out here, maybe," Alex told Mary.

"Or it was an honest hope that someone might kill John," I said. "Whoever did this knew what buttons to push. They made it seem like John was responsible for what happened with Brozi and his boys."

"It was a hail mary with no downside," Bobby said. "It might get you out of the city, it might send an assassin after John, or worst case it worries you to death and disrupts John's life."

"Have you been able to track the purchase of the phone yet?" Alex asked.

"We're working on it. The phone logs came courtesy of Mulder and Cecilia, so Mike Cutter is working on bringing us back to this side of legal. He's going to get warrants for the records, and once we obtain those, and _officially_ make the connection, we can get the full log of the cell in question, complete with purchase date and location, and then…"

She trailed off because we all know the drill, so she didn't need to say it. Check security footage at the location of purchase, cross-reference all other numbers called by the phone…it's a process, and not one that'll be finished tonight.

"But no one's come after him, even after the offer of money," she said after a brief pause. "So you think there's no real threat from there? You think it'll come from here?"

"That would be my guess. Although you've got him changing up his schedule, and working a lot from the hotel, and security on the door…"

"Not to mention his wife is a bad ass marshal," I added, hoping to bring her a little levity. She snorted out a sound of mild amusement and then said, "Okay, so you guys can come home, I guess."

"We will. Tomorrow night," Carolyn told her. "We're going to stick around and help the DEA get this gang off the streets, just to make doubly sure. You know, since we're here."

"Well, yeah, you know they couldn't do it without the Gorens and Logans," she said smartly.

"Hell no," Alex agreed with a grin. "And honestly, I'm going to enjoy it after everything Christina put us through. I don't want there to be anyone left for her to attempt to start over, should she ever find her way out of prison."

"Well, she won't," Bobby said. "But I'm with you."

"Keep me up to speed tomorrow," she said. "And I'll let you know what we find out about the phone."

"Sounds like a plan," Alex said.

"And Mary," I added quickly, before she hung up.

"Yeah?"

"Stay safe."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Bobby & John**_


	22. Chapter 22

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It turned out to be a good trip.

And by good, I mean no one got beat up or shot.

No trips to the hospital.

In fact, I'm pretty sure that Alex and I are both completely bruise-free. Mike and Carolyn, too.

It's a miracle, I know.

"So it was a success?" Mary asked us, skipping over any kind of formal greeting as she and Jennifer joined us at the table.

The four of us have been in Steve-O's almost half an hour, having come here straight from JFK, and Cutter and John arrived separately over the next fifteen minutes, so now it looks like our group for the night is complete.

"Tremendous," Mike answered. "I think we need medals or something."

"We hauled in more than two dozen players," Carolyn added.

"Single-handedly," Alex quipped as she smiled slyly. We're all in pretty good moods, mostly because of what I said - it's good to be back home with each of us fully intact.

"Only two dozen? I'm disappointed," Jennifer joked.

"Triple the number when you start counting charges," Mike said. "The DEA really brought down the hammer on these guys. Of course, it's taken them ten months. We wiped out the New York faction in only a couple of weeks."

He raised his glass in silent toast, and we all raised ours and then took a minute to sip from our drinks.

It's funny how lately I've grown to appreciate these little moments so much. It's like paying tribute to what's important in life. All of the cases, the things that used to be my whole life, now they're secondary, so as bad as any of that might get, as long as I have Alex, then I'm going to be just fine.

Like this morning. Mike Cutter called us, while we were still in our hotel room, before meeting up with Mike and Carolyn and the DEA.

 _"Sorry to bother you, Detective,_ " he said when I answered.

 _"It's Bobby,"_ I corrected. " _And you're no bother. What's up?"_

And yeah, I had to make myself be polite because the call _did_ interrupt my last few minutes alone with Alex before we got going for the day, and she had yet to get dressed, after taking a shower, so trust me when I say they were very enjoyable minutes.

But he wouldn't have called just to shoot the breeze, so I forced myself to remove my hands from my wife's delectable body so that I could pay attention to the call.

" _Jocelyn Moser,"_ he stated with disgust. " _She was granted an appeal."_

 _"On what grounds?"_

 _"Incompetent representation, in addition to the whiff of impropriety due to the system hack."_

 _"So the mounds of evidence don't matter?"_

 _"It matters. And I'll be handling the prosecution this time,"_ he said confidently. " _I'm just saying, you and Alex need to be prepared to testify. Again."_

 _"How long before the trial?"_

 _"I'm not sure yet, but I'll let you know when I find out. And don't worry, she won't be getting out of prison."_

 _"Unless the next jury finds her innocent,"_ I pointed out, wondering what tricks Jocelyn might have up her sleeve. She's a slippery one, that woman. I like it better when the criminals look and act like criminals instead of being masters of deception.

 _"Over my dead body,"_ Cutter said firmly, and then after another moment, he asked quietly, _"So how is everything going out there? You guys are staying safe?"_

 _"It's almost too easy,"_ I answered.

 _"No such thing."_

We hung up, and to my dismay, I found that Alex had gotten dressed while I was distracted with the call, and I immediately shoved all thoughts of Jocelyn Moser from my mind.

 _"I wasn't done,"_ I pouted.

 _"Later,"_ she said with a coy smile. " _Mike and Carolyn are on their way down."_

A knock on the door punctuated her statement, so it was time to get to work. And in spite of Cutter's words, it _was_ almost too easy, which is how we managed to arrive back in New York in perfect health.

Definitely toast-worthy.

But as we sat there, each of us lost in our own thoughts, reality came crashing back down.

Because yes, it was a good trip, but there's still the unresolved threats against John's life. I know Mary and Jennifer have been working hard, tracking the burner cell, and I'm hoping they have some news for us, once we finish bringing everyone up to speed on Detroit.

"Anyone cop to taking the hit request?" Mary asked, her question bringing gravity back to the moment.

"Yes," I answered. "Two of them, actually. It would account for the two phone calls, one for the 187 and one to attach a dollar amount."

"They both said they weren't planning on actually doing anything about it, once they realized where it came from," Alex added.

"Wait, so you know where it came from?" Jennifer asked sharply.

"No, only where it _didn't_ come from," Mike explained. "Initially, they thought it was legit, from one of their New York brethren. When the fifty grand was offered, the jig was up. O'Connor heard a lot of chatter about it, when we got to town, because apparently there was some kind of mutiny, with the lower ranking guys wanting to make some quick cash, but it was quashed by the higher-ups."

"How noble of them," Mary said with an eye roll. "Any kind of voice description?"

"Male," Carolyn stated. "Other than that, no. No accent, no noticeable variation of speech pattern…"

"No accent at all? Wouldn't a guy from Detroit think New Yorkers have accents?" Jennifer said.

"Yes," I agreed. "You would think so, at least."

"Huh."

"So tell us what you found," Mike encouraged.

I noticed that John was especially quiet, but I figured maybe it was because we're all here, doing all of this for him. I know how he hates that kind of attention. Cutter's been quiet, too, but he seems more engaged in the conversation, and mostly at ease, with his arm around the back of Jennifer's chair. John, on the other hand, seems disconnected. Mary's hand is on his thigh, and they exchanged a quick kiss when she arrived, but other than that…I don't know, but he's definitely off.

"We got the full log for the burner," Jennifer answered. "But there weren't any additional calls made from it."

"So it was purchased for the express purpose of arranging the hit," Carolyn said.

"Right," Mary answered. "And of course, it was bought with cash."

"It would've been pretty stupid to buy a burner and then pay with credit," Alex agreed. "Although I never give up hope for stupid criminals."

"That's because there are plenty of them out there," Cutter spoke up.

"Just not this guy," Mary replied. "No working security footage in the bodega where it was purchased. It's been more than a month, so the clerk on duty has no recollection whatsoever. No ATM's nearby, that might have caught him coming or going…"

"Someone who knows a little bit about what he's doing. Someone with a record?" I suggested. "John, do you have any associates with criminal records? Someone you might have upset?"

All of us shifted our attention to him, and after a long pause, he brought his eyes to mine for a second before turning to look at his wife and saying, "No, but I know who it is."

* * *

 **John POV**

It's been bugging me for the past hour. I've been turning it over every which way in my mind, trying to find fault in my theory.

Probably because I don't want it to be true. But it is. It has to be.

And I mean, I'm _glad_ that I know, because from the sound of what was netted on the Detroit trip, this knowledge combined with that tells me that the entirety of the threats against me are about to disappear.

So this whole shit storm is about to come to an end.

But at what cost?

And how did this happen?

Or more importantly, _why_?

I feel like I missed something, somewhere. Signs or clues or something, but I don't know when.

Mary and I spent much of our weekend working, separately of course, but when we weren't working, we were in bed.

I mean, we _are_ newlyweds.

We didn't only make love, though. We also spent a lot of time just lying in each other's arms, talking and…well, just _being_.

But I haven't told her about the house yet. I decided that conversation should wait until this little fiasco is over. Besides, it's not like I actually bought it yet. I simply put down a little earnest money. Worst case, she hates it and I'm ten grand poorer. I've lost more money than that in an hour at one of my casinos. Not lately, of course, but still…

Anyway, so it's been a weird weekend, with me holed up at the Millennium and Mary working so much, and those things interspersed with intense love-making and idyllic romantic _calm_.

All in all, it wasn't a bad weekend. I mean, sure, I was busy and insane and out of sorts, but if I'm ever going to be all of those things, I want to be them with Mary.

Last night, I decided that I wanted to go to the Atlantic City office today, so I sent Rocco a text, asking him to pick me up at eight this morning.

His response was short and succinct, and I briefly wondered if maybe he's still miffed at me from last Thursday, but instead of getting into it via text, I waited until this morning.

 _"Good morning, Sir,"_ he said as he held open the door for me.

 _"Is it?"_ I asked, pausing outside of the car and looking him in the eye. I'm the type who doesn't believe in letting things fester, so if he's still ticked, I'd rather know.

He stared at me for a long minute and then almost smiled, which is about all I ever get from him, and then he said, " _My apologies for my behavior last week. I think the tension has me a little off my game."_

 _"No apology necessary,"_ I said, offering my hand. He shook it, and nodded crisply, and then the moment was over and I got in the car.

 _"Heliport?"_ he questioned as he got behind the wheel, and it seemed everything was back to status quo. I completely understand that these threats have him wound a little tight. He feels responsible for me, and I'm sure it's upped his stress level, wanting to make sure I'm safe.

 _Him and Mary both,_ I mused. _Talk about wound tight…_

Last night, I made her lay down on the bed so that I could massage her shoulders, and I've never felt muscles that tight in my life. I made a mental note to ask Jessica to arrange for a masseuse to come to the penthouse tonight, because I think a professional is the only one who can work out those knots in her shoulders.

Anyway, so we got in the chopper and flew to AC, so that I could check in at the office. I let Jessica know ahead of time that I was coming, so she could fill my day with much needed meetings, people I've neglected lately due to both my current situation with the threats and my preoccupation with the love of my life.

Jessica is nothing if not efficient, so my day was a blur of meetings, here and there near the office, and then lunch at the Towers, and then more meetings. It was four-thirty when I finally went back to the office, feeling tired but gratified with my accomplishments for the day.

 _"You got a package,"_ Jessica told me as I breezed through the lobby. _"I put it on your desk."_

 _"Thank you,"_ I responded, taking a moment to stop and actually look at her, so that she doesn't feel like a speed bump, unappreciated and insignificant, because she's neither of those things, and without her, this place wouldn't run nearly so smoothly.

 _"Something for the new wife?"_ she asked with a playful smile.

 _"Not this time. But that reminds me, she's overdue for a gift, don't you think?"_

 _"Want me to…"_

 _"I'll do it,"_ I interrupted gently. _"But thanks."_

Once in my office, I took note of the return address on the box - Italy - and then I promptly opened it. A new briefcase, nearly identical to my old one because I'm a firm believer in why mess with a good thing. But my old one, which is actually not all that old, fell victim to a splash of tequila during a particularly aggressive and pleasurable love-making session with Mary a couple of weeks ago, and in spite of them being a pleasant reminder, the spots on the strap are driving me crazy.

So I spent some time going through the old briefcase, weeding out unnecessary items before putting everything deemed vital into the new one.

My task complete, I texted for Rocco to pick me up and then I went downstairs.

 _"What do you think?"_ I asked Jessica.

 _"About…"_

 _"New briefcase."_

She eyeballed the brown Italian leather and then looked at me curiously and said, " _It's new? It looks exactly like your old one."_

 _"That's the point,"_ I said with a grin, then on a whim, I added, " _Hey, what would you think about making the move into Manhattan?"_

It's something I've mentioned to her in the past, as a possibility. Keeping the office in Atlantic City almost seems silly, but I wouldn't want to lose her, she's too good. It's hard to believe she's as young as she is, especially considering she's been with me for ten years. Of course, I hired her while she was still in high school, a sixteen year old kid just to answer the phones. She's the one who turned the position into an art form, making herself invaluable to me, becoming more of an assistant than a receptionist.

She's lived in AC her whole life, but she lost her parents about five years ago, and her sister moved to California last fall, so I don't think she has any real ties here anymore, which was why I asked her to think about it.

 _"I looked into the real estate market,"_ she answered, looking intrigued by the notion. _"I'll need a raise."_

I smiled even bigger, appreciating her smart business sense and practicality.

 _"Of course. Let's look at it more seriously. I think it's about time._ "

She nodded in agreement, and then we said our goodbyes and I went out on the sidewalk to find Rocco waiting for me.

He was friendly and chatty, and I relaxed as he drove us back to the heliport. Once we were on the ground in the city, and back in a car heading for the Millennium, I remembered that I used the last of my cash on lunch today, since the credit card machine was on the fritz.

 _"Let's make a stop at Chase,"_ I said to Rocco.

 _"Then the Millennium? You aren't meeting your friends tonight?"_

 _"I am, but I'll cab it_ ," I answered. " _No sense making you sit around all evening."_

He nodded, and made the requisite stop for me to get cash, and then he dropped me at the hotel.

 _"Tomorrow?"_ he asked.

 _"I'll let you know."_

That was a little over an hour ago.

"I got another threat today," I said to everyone, not answering their chorus of _who_ just yet.

"An email?"

"No. An actual note," I replied, pulling the piece of paper from my pocket.

"Where was it?" Mary asked in alarm as Bobby was mumbling, "Standard college-ruled notebook paper, block-style print…"

Carolyn jumped in, saying, "Makes it harder for comparison…the stylistic aspects have been removed…

And Jennifer was reading, " _You're going to get her killed._ Meaning Mary? But isn't that what we were thinking they wanted to happen?"

"Hang on," Mary interrupted loudly before pinning me with a stare and saying, "John, where was this?"

"In my briefcase."

"Who would've had access?" Alex asked.

"Everyone," Mary groaned. "You told me what a hectic day you had, meetings everywhere, and you were in a restaurant where anyone could've walked by…so this means the guy was right there, close enough to you to…"

"Mary," I said, stalling her minor freak out, even though I know the break is only temporary because once I tell her, she's really going to blow a gasket. "Breathe."

She held my gaze, the extreme worry evident, but then she nodded slowly and said, "Okay, so…you said you know something. Tell us."

"It's a new briefcase. I just got it this afternoon. After the meetings, and after the lunch. I transferred everything from the old to the new."

"And you're sure it wasn't in there already? I mean…Jessica?"

"Impossible. The box was still sealed. And I'm sure it was completely empty when I took it out of the box."

"So how'd it get there? Where were you and when was it out of your sight?"

"Only once. In the car, on the way back to the Millennium, I stopped at the bank. I left it in the backseat."

Everyone was silent for a moment, and then Mary said, "So you're saying…Rocco left the car unattended?"

"No, I'm saying, it's Rocco."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Lauren**_


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Jocelyn Moser is from Good Luck.**

* * *

 **Lauren POV**

* * *

For a few minutes, I tuned out everything, instead only listening to the sound of our tennis shoes slapping against the pavement.

Sometimes when I'm running, I can retreat so far into my own mind that I can easily imagine myself in the middle of a desert rather than in a city of thousands upon thousands upon thousands.

Today I'm not quite that good because I _am_ aware of my surroundings, but only peripherally.

Jennifer's with me, and she's letting me dictate the pace, of both the run and the conversation. We're on mile six, even though we usually only do five, and for some reason I feel like I can run forever.

Maybe it's symbolism. Maybe I'd like to be running away.

See, it's Sunday, and today marks one month since Flowers escaped.

And tomorrow will be three weeks since Rocco Di Carlo dropped off John at the Millennium and then disappeared into the night.

So for three and four weeks respectively, Rocco and Flowers have managed to elude us, the supposed best of the best.

To say it's been frustrating would be an understatement, although at least in John's case, he feels like he's no longer in danger. The emails have stopped completely and the consensus is that Rocco is more concerned about not getting caught than he is about trying to harm John.

That was a strange situation anyway, and I don't know all of the details, but I'm sure with time, I'll hear all about it.

Personally, I'm still working alongside Eames to try to find evidence against the person who set up Kevin Shaw for murder. We assumed Puccio, but we can't tie him to anything, and of course, he's in prison so it's not like he did it himself. It makes me worry for Shaw, because if the set-up was payback, then maybe he's still a target, since the payback didn't work.

Or maybe I just worry about him so I don't have to worry about myself.

Bernard's been running himself ragged, trying to follow every lead, no matter how small or insignificant, in an effort to capture Flowers. I know Lupo's been working hard, too, but Bernard brings it home with him. Several nights over the past few weeks, I've awakened, from a nightmare of course, only to find B already up, sitting at the kitchen table, going through notes.

 _"What are you doing?"_ I asked rhetorically when I found him there this morning at two.

I'd awakened moments before from the grips of a horrible dream, so I was covered in a sheen of sweat and my heart was still pounding out an insane rhythm.

 _"You had another nightmare?"_ he asked, ignoring my question as he instead hopped up from the chair and pulled me into his arms. _"I'm sorry I wasn't there."_

 _"You're out here with him…I'm in there with him…B, this has to stop. On both ends,_ " I replied, burying my face against his chest. " _He doesn't belong anywhere in our home."_

 _"I know, I'm sorry,"_ he soothed, running his hand over my back.

We stood there like that for several minutes until his comforting embrace served to calm my frazzled nerves, and then he sat down in the chair, pulling me with him, onto his lap.

 _"I just keep thinking that if I look a little harder, I'll find that one clue that leads me to him,"_ he admitted as he picked up the file again.

He's gone over these files six ways to Sunday. So has Lupo. So have I. There's nothing there. He's tracked every lead Connie got out of Schmenke, and still nothing.

I almost believe Flowers decided I'm not worth sticking around for. No one's spotted him since Jeremy tried to physically stop his car, and that was three weeks ago.

 _"You need sleep,"_ I told him gently, easing the file from his hand and putting it back on the table. " _You can't keep going like this."_

 _"I'm not worried about me,"_ he said distractedly, reaching for a piece of paper filled with notes.

 _"I am,"_ I said purposefully. I put my hand over his, sliding my fingers through his and holding his hand in place on the table, and when he turned to look at me, I kissed him. It only took a split second before I had his full attention, and then he pulled his hand from under mine and slid it around to my back instead, pulling me more firmly against him as he deepened the kiss. I only meant to convey my concern, but suddenly, we were both all about need, strong and intense need, and I was desperate for him, and I guess he was for me, too, because he stood up, taking me with him and then he shoved his case notes out of the way and laid me back on the table. He went with me, leaning over me and maintaining the passionate kiss as he reached between us with one hand, trying to work off my underwear, and within seconds, they were gone, and he was pushing into me with fervent purpose, still kissing me while he drove into me over and over. I love the feeling of being completely surrounded by him, and every other thought left my mind as I focused on only the building heat inside of me.

Well, until I heard pounding, only not from the door, and B heard it, too, because he paused for a moment, looking at me in question and curiosity.

 _"What the…"_ he began, and then we realized it was coming from our downstairs neighbor.

Apparently, the sound of our kitchen table rhythmically dragging across the floor was enough to pull her from the bed so that she could pound on her ceiling with a broom stick.

 _"Oh my God,"_ I said as I started laughing, and B grinned, but then muttered _hell with her_ , and he started up again, and God, just like that I was right back on the edge again, just on the verge of release.

It didn't take but another minute, and B was right there with me, growling my name as he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

It wasn't lost on me that we just made love on the Flowers case file. And in that moment, I felt brave and bold.

 _"Fuck Flowers,"_ I whispered meaningfully as I ran my hands over his back. _"Tell Ross you want to kick this case back to the feds. We're going to get on with our life."_

"You're really handing it off?" Jennifer asked me as I gave her the mostly PG-rated version of events.

"You don't think we've wasted enough of our lives on him? I mean, damn, Jennifer. We just had our one-month anniversary, and the whole freakin' month has been about him."

"What does Bernard say?"

"He understands. I think he's still leery about it, but he said it's my decision. And honestly, if he _is_ planning to come after me, then what's he waiting for? A hand-written invitation?"

"It's a risk," she pointed out quietly.

"I know," I conceded. "And I'll still be vigilant. I just can't obsess about it anymore. And I can't let B obsess, either."

She was quiet for a moment and then she said, "So does that mean you're selling the treadmill?"

I barked out a laugh, but said, "No, I'm keeping it."

See, B bought me a treadmill a couple of weeks ago. He said it was so that I could keep running, even if he or Jennifer wasn't available to go with me.

 _"You might like it better,"_ he suggested, watching me like he was afraid I might be mad about the purchase.

 _"Than running outside?"_

 _"When it's cold? Or raining?"_ he countered.

 _"Maybe,"_ I answered skeptically.

I've never cared for treadmills. I can't get to that place, where my mind forgets what my body is doing, when I'm running on a treadmill. I need to be outdoors, breathing in the air and pounding the pavement.

But he looked so damn cute and hopeful, and I know he only bought it because he worries about me.

" _You're just trying to get out of working out with me,"_ I accused playfully.

 _"Definitely,"_ he agreed wholeheartedly, and then he hugged me and said, " _Well, running with you. We can do other workouts anytime you want."_

 _"Anytime? You want to test out the new treadmill?"_ I propositioned.

 _"You mean…run on it? Both of us?"_ he asked in confusion.

 _"No…"_ I answered coyly. _"Come on, plug that thing in and I'll show you how it's done."_

So yeah, I love the treadmill, even though I haven't run a mile on it.

Besides, he has a point about when the weather turns. It's tough to run if the sidewalk's icy.

"You hate that thing," Jennifer pointed out.

"No, I don't."

"So you've run on it?"

"Nope."

"Oh my God, I don't even want to know," she replied on a laugh.

"Hey, I'm a newlywed, remember?"

"Still doesn't mean I need to hear about it."

"Please," I said dismissively. "You were just telling me yesterday how you and Mike spent your Friday night."

She hummed her concession and then we were both quiet again, and I wondered briefly why she wasn't talking more, especially since I'd opened the door about her and Mike.

"Tell me how your case is going," she said after another minute. "Any leads?"

"Not really. I mean, we know Shaw didn't do it. His alibi was shaky, but we've been able to firm it up, so it's not just about protecting the Irish," I said.

And maybe I'm a little touchy about it, I don't know. I do know that Logan was worried it might be Shaw, and then he was worried that we wouldn't want to arrest him if it _was_ him, so it's kind of been a minefield, working this case, but it's taught me a lot about honesty and straight-forward talk.

In fact, it got me thinking so much about it, that I actually called my mom to tell her that I'm married.

And yeah, so it was just last week, only two days before our one-month anniversary, but still…I did it.

 _"You did what?"_ she shouted at me through the phone, and I could easily picture her disappointed expression as she surely began picking at her flawless manicure.

 _"I got married. We got married. I'm married,"_ I said inelegantly.

 _"To whom?"_

 _"Are you kidding me? I've been living with him, remember?"_

 _"Well, the last time we talked, I pointed out that it wasn't a good idea,"_ she said firmly. _"With everything that happened, and he's a…what, a detective, right?"_

Her tone was so disdainful that I nearly hung up, but I just squeezed B's hand a little tighter and plowed forward.

 _"Yes, just like me. And his name is Bernard,"_ I said firmly. _"And he's my husband, so you should probably try to remember it. In fact, you really need to get used to it because I've taken his name."_

 _"Which is…what?"_

 _"Bernard,"_ I said again in frustration. _"I'm Lauren Bernard."_

 _"Oh, I thought that was his first name. You call your husband by his last name? And how long have you known him? Are you sure this is a good idea? You said he knows about the rape and that you can't have children…and he still wanted to marry you?"_

 _"Yes, Clarissa,"_ I said dryly, knowing I'd piss her off by not calling her _mom_. _"For some reason, he still wanted to marry me. So, are you going to say congratulations or something, or are we done here?"_

 _"Call me when you need a divorce attorney,"_ she replied, and what really got to me was that her statement wasn't made with any heat or vengeance. It was just matter of fact. Like, she knows I'll need her. And she _hopes_ I will, so that after the divorce, I'll come back to Minnesota.

God, I hate her. And maybe I'll go to hell for thinking that, I don't know, but I can't help it.

 _"For some reason?"_ B asked after I hung up the phone. He took my other hand, so that he was holding both of them, and he looked me in the eyes as he said, _"It's because I love you so damn much that the thought of going a single day without you is completely unbearable."_

 _"I don't know, B. I'm a lot of trouble,"_ I said, my mood already dissipating just from his romantic words.

 _"Uh uh. You're just the right amount of trouble."_

"I never considered that you would try to protect the Irish," Jennifer said, pulling me back into the current conversation. "I mean, I know how much you think of Logan, but still…"

"Well, I'll admit that I didn't want it to be Shaw," I said. "But otherwise, it was going to play out however it was going to play out. But anyway, we got video of some guy stealing his plates. He actually pulled them off, apparently went to commit the crime, then brought them back."

"You have video?"

"Grainy, distant, dark video," I clarified. "We haven't been able to figure out who the hell he is, and Puccio hasn't been in contact with anyone, and we've been running down the other potential enemies of Shaw, which by the way is a _lot_ of people…"

"Are you at a dead end?"

"No, just…still sorting it all out," I said. Because there are still people to talk to, so I'm not calling it quits yet. "What about you?"

"We have a new thing we're working on, but it's all hush-hush."

"Such is the life of a marshal," I teased. "You could tell me, but then you'd have to kill me, right?"

She laughed, but only a little, and it makes me wonder if she's still worried about me, too.

Like she thinks Flowers is still going to come after me.

Like she thinks there's a real chance I'll end up dead.

God, this whole thing is depressing as hell, and I'm sick of being so serious all the time.

"Hey, you know if he does come after me, I'm ready for him," I told her. "Just because I'm tired of stressing about it doesn't mean I'm unprepared."

She looked at me and said firmly, "He's an escaped felon. If he comes after you, don't try to arrest him, just kill him."

Probably not the smartest thing said out loud by a United States Marshal, but I'll never repeat it, so it doesn't matter.

"I hear you," I promised.

She held my gaze for a few more strides and then nodded and said, "Anyway, our new project has taken away from our time to track Rocco."

"Still no sign of him?"

"Absolutely none."

"And he's really bipolar, huh?"

"Apparently. John knew about it, of course, but he said Rocco's always been fine on the meds. I think the upheaval in his life, with John's focus suddenly being all about Mary, it's must've been too much. We found prescription bottles in his apartment, and he didn't refill them, so he's been out for several weeks."

"Huh. I would think since he's off his meds that he wouldn't be thinking clearly enough to be stealthy."

"Yeah, you would think that, wouldn't you?" she said with a wry smile. "But no, so far we can't find him. Although I don't know what we'll do with him when we do. John won't want us to prosecute."

We fell silent again and mile six turned into mile seven, then mile eight. I get the feeling that she wants to talk about something, but so far, she's still not forthcoming.

"So are you going to say what's on your mind any time soon, or are we running to Jersey?" I asked at last.

"What do you mean?" she deflected. "We've been talking."

"Uh huh."

"Nothing's on my mind."

"Okay."

"I thought we could get in a longer run today, that's all," she continued, even though I'm still not buying it.

"Sure, how far do you want to go? Ten? Twenty?"

She sighed heavily and slowed her pace a little, but it was still nearly half a mile before she spoke.

"This stays between us."

"Of course," I agreed immediately.

"I mean it. Not even Bernard."

"Jennifer," I replied, and then I stopped running altogether, putting my hand on her arm as she stopped, too, and turned to look at me. "What is it?"

"I think I'm pregnant."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Cecilia**_


	24. Chapter 24

**Cecilia POV**

* * *

The past month or so has been like an out-of-body experience for me.

I mean, I tracked down my mother. And yeah, she's a bitch, but still…the search led me to Liz.

And Mulder.

I smiled just at the thought of him as I steered my car away from his building, heading for the interstate that'll take me back to Boston.

It's Sunday night, and it's later than I meant to stay, especially since I'm driving myself home rather than riding the train, but I've had such a great time. It's not like I'll sleep when I get home anyway. I'll be too busy thinking about Mulder.

This was our fourth weekend in a row together. After the first one he spent in Boston, I've been down to New York for the next three.

We've had a few dinners with Lupo and Connie, and one with Liz and Danny, and then one with Jeremy and Aaron.

They all feel like family, and they've accepted me into their group so easily.

And tonight, we went to a bar where I finally got to meet the entire group.

It was…loud and daunting. And so much fun. It was a challenge, trying to keep up with all the different conversations, but they were all _so_ nice. The Gorens and the Logans, the Bernards, and the Lupos and the Strathmores…and of course, Danny and Liz and Jeremy and Aaron…Jennifer and the ADA, Mike Cutter. I think we filled up at least half of the bar, just our group.

Everyone talked about their cases, and then everyone else would throw out their opinions about possible motive or a suggested investigative tack…it was really cool. Especially since they didn't seem to mind me throwing things out there, too.

 _"Have you considered looking into his mother's finances?"_ I asked Bernard, in regards to the Flowers case.

 _"She's been dead for ten years,"_ he said.

 _"It's still not a bad idea,"_ Lupo offered. " _He could be using her social to maintain an account somewhere."_

 _"Pass along the suggestion to the feds,"_ Lauren said. _"You're handing it off, remember?"_

 _"They are?"_ Bobby asked.

 _"Lauren decided to let them do their job,"_ Bernard answered, not looking all that convinced about her idea.

 _"So that we can take a step back and live our lives,_ " she added purposefully.

 _"Smart,"_ Alex spoke up. " _It doesn't hurt to keep an eye on it, but obsessing about it twenty-four-seven is going to make you both crazy."_

 _"Exactly,"_ Lauren stated.

" _Hey, where are you with Shaw_?" Mary asked, so then Lauren went into a summary of her case.

" _You've tapped all the footage in the area of the body drop_?" Mulder asked.

" _We haven't found anything so far."_

 _"It's a populated area, right?_ " I asked. " _Did you check social media?"_

 _"You mean, did someone accidentally film the killer only he didn't know it so he tweeted his video?"_ Aaron asked.

 _"It's a possibility,"_ Mulder said, squeezing my hand as he defended my comment, although, I didn't mind the question. I just love the open discussion.

Spending my teens in a group home didn't really prepare me for anything like this. I mean, back then, it was about survival. That's how I got so good with computers, because that's how I spent all of my time. I'm completely self-taught, and it was my escape from my reality. So this, having a round-robin conversation with seventeen super smart people…it's almost stimulation overload, and yet I love it.

 _"I think it's a great idea, but there are only so many hours in the day,_ " Lauren explained. " _We're talking to everyone in the community, and going through Shaw's life looking for motive, and tracking Puccio's contacts in Rikers…_ "

 _"I can do it,_ " I offered, simultaneously with Mulder, and everyone at the table laughed at our eager chorused response.

" _You have to work tomorrow_ ," I reminded him, turning to look at him as I said the words, and for a moment, I just got lost in his eyes. I mean, the guy is just _so_ cute. And sweet. And smart.

" _So do you,"_ he pointed out. _"Besides, it won't take that long. Just a quick recipe to scope the specific chronology…_ "

" _And narrow the LAL,_ " I added. " _You could also nip the batch…"_

 _"To cut back the sheep,"_ he finished for me, smiling at me as we both nodded in unison. I stared at him for another beat, and then looked around to find everyone staring at us.

" _Oh my God, she's his exact clone_ ," Logan mumbled, his expression mystified, even as he held back a grin.

" _Hey, don't get us sidetracked,"_ Lauren said, looking at us encouragingly. " _Sounds like it won't take long to create the program, and then just let it run, right? Then you might find something?"_

 _"If it's out there, we'll find it,"_ I said confidently.

 _"Great. You two can fight about who writes it, but either way, I'll definitely take the help."_

Mike Cutter caught my eye and gave me a pointed look, and I know what he's thinking.

He wants to ask if I've thought about his offer.

I appreciate his discretion, not saying anything aloud just yet, because I haven't talked about it with Mulder. I want to make my decision first before I tell him.

See, I was offered a job in the District Attorney's office as an investigator. It would be electronic investigating, of course, but still…how exciting!

And that would mean I'd live in New York.

Closer to Mulder.

But the cautious side of me says I've only known him for five weeks, and it would be silly to uproot my life to take a job to be near him. So I want to make sure I _want_ to move here, and I _want_ the job, even if I take him out of the equation.

Although I'm pretty sure I know what that answer is already.

It terrifies me, although I don't know why. It's not like I have anyone or anything tying me to Boston. I used to stay in that area because I assumed that's where my real parents live. Now I know that one of them does. My father, Giovanni Pirelli, the low life piece of crap gangster who at the age of thirty-three knocked up my eighteen year old mother.

He's still in Boston, but there's nothing about him that makes me want to stay in the same city.

My mother, on the other hand, lives here in New York. She might not be a low life piece of crap gangster, but as far as I'm concerned, she's just as bad as my father.

No one knows it, but I've spoken with both of them. Once each, over the past two weeks.

Colossal disappointments, each of them. I don't know what I expected.

Maybe I was hoping to find people more like the people with whom I spent my evening.

The detectives and lawyers and doctors who not only help each other with cases, but they truly like each other, so they don't just talk about work. They like to tease each other a lot, too.

" _You're not drinking?_ " Logan said to Jennifer, after we'd been there for more than an hour and she was still only sipping on water. Although, so am I, but everyone knows I have a long drive ahead of me. Connie's not drinking either, but I'm not sure anyone noticed. I heard her when she ordered, since I'm sitting next to her, and she's drinking a cranberry soda, which could easily be a mixed drink.

" _Sinus infection,_ " Jennifer answered. " _I'm on antibiotic."_

" _So? When has that ever stopped any of us?"_ he replied with a grin.

" _She's smart and actually read the label on the medication,"_ Liz answered for her. " _Unlike some people I know..."_

" _Besides, it's Sunday night. Some of us have to work tomorrow,_ " Lauren pointed out, standing up for her friend, even though she herself was on her second beer.

 _"Hey, I'm working tomorrow_ ," Logan fired back playfully.

 _"Is that what you call what you do?_ " his wife teased him.

 _"Anyone else want to jump in, since I'm getting ganged up on by the female population?"_

 _"I thought that's how you like it, Mike,"_ Bobby joked, causing everyone to laugh, including Logan.

I love the teasing atmosphere. I always wanted to be part of a big family. Some orphans dream about having rich parents, fantasize that they were somehow mistakenly separated and one day they'd swoop in driving a big fancy car and whisk the child off to their mansion.

Me, I always pretended that my real family was average, financially speaking. Had just enough to get by on, just enough to get what eight children needed. I'm not sure why I always picked eight in my dreams, but I did. Four boys, four girls, sharing two bedrooms as well as secrets and laughs and love.

I never tried to imagine why I wasn't with them because nothing I came up with made any sense to me, and I've always been a practical person, even down to making my fantasies plausible. So while I loved the image of sibling closeness, I never had a good explanation for why I was alone.

In my dream, I mean. In reality, I knew why. My mother didn't want me. The social worker told me that when I was quite young, and it never left my mind.

 _"Your mother gave you up by choice, honey. That's your reality. The faster you accept it, the happier you'll be."_

Still, I hoped that choice was merely because she was too young for the responsibility. As it turned out, she was just too selfish.

But that's irrelevant now. Now, I have Mulder, who's turning out to be my best friend as well as the man I'm falling love with. I didn't know those two things were supposed to go together, but after spending the evening with the entire group, I realize that it _should_ be like that. Your significant other _should_ be the one you confide in, the one you want to spend all of your time with, and the one you can laugh with, as well as the one who makes your stomach do somersaults from just a look or a touch.

And somersaults is really an understatement. The way Mulder makes me feel…

I went back to his place with him, after leaving the bar. Initially, I was only going to grab my suitcase and then hit the road, but we got sidetracked.

Not like _that_.

Well, yes, like that, but actually the first thing that sidetracked us was writing the program for Lauren and her investigation.

 _"Want to help me?"_ Mulder asked me after we entered his apartment. _"It'll only take a couple of minutes, and it was your idea."_

He snagged his Mac from the kitchen table and then looked at me with the most adorable expression, so it would've been impossible for me to say no, even if I'd wanted to. Which I didn't. Actually what I wanted to do was quit my job via phone and start working for the DA's office without ever going back to Boston. Well, I mean, I'd go back to get Gates, but what I'm _saying_ is that I just want to be here. With Mulder.

 _"You don't need my help,"_ I replied, smiling as he took my hand and tugged me along with him into the living room, not even bothering with the lights.

 _"Of course I don't need it,"_ he responded as we sat down on the couch. Then his voice lowered and he leaned close to me as he added, " _But I want it._ "

And yeah, just that little comment had me wanting to toss aside the laptop and climb into his lap.

I had no idea I was so interested in sex until Mulder came along.

Our first weekend together, when I told him it had been a while for me…that was a little bit misleading.

Because it had been more like thirteen years since my one and only sexual experience, and I just like to pretend that first time never happened. I haven't told anyone about it, and I'm sure the guy didn't tell anyone either. Or maybe he did, but it wouldn't be anyone I know because I didn't even know him. It was this boy who was brought to the group home where I was living. His parents had just been killed, and he didn't have any other family, so he was a ward of the state for the three months until his eighteenth birthday.

I was sixteen, and like I've said, I was pretty much a loner, enjoying the company of my computer more so than any live person, but I _was_ a little curious about him and his sad story. After his first week at the home, I stumbled across him in the kitchen, in the middle of the night.

 _"What are you doing?_ " I whispered.

 _"Looking for the liquor cabinet,"_ he answered.

 _"There isn't one."_

 _"I really need a drink,"_ he stated, and there was something about the desolate desperation in his voice that made me take pity on him.

 _"Tessa keeps a bottle stashed in the laundry room,"_ I offered conspiratorially, and at my statement, he finally turned around to look at me, and I saw the tears in his eyes.

 _"Show me."_

So I took him down into the laundry room, where I recovered Tessa's pilfered bottle of Bacardi. I uncapped it and held it out to him, and he looked at me appreciatively for a moment before taking it from me and then taking a healthy swig. He sputtered and coughed after taking the drink.

 _"You don't drink,"_ I accused lightly, taking my turn with the bottle.

 _"No,"_ he admitted, but then he took another belt, this time managing not to cough, and then he fixed his eyes on mine and said, _"But my parents are dead. I'm completely alone. If liquor isn't for someone like me, then who the hell do they make it for?"_

I could say I don't know what I was thinking when I did what I did next, but I do. He was cute and heart-broken and I wanted to make him feel better.

So I kissed him.

Within two minutes, we were naked on the laundry room floor, and three minutes after that, we were done and I was drinking more rum to silently toast the loss of my virginity.

Two days later, he ran away from the group home and I never saw him again.

I haven't told Mulder about that because I'm ashamed of my actions, which is also probably why I haven't been intimate with anyone again since then. I never even wanted to.

Until Mulder, I mean.

And what's so different about him from the handful of guys I've dated over the years?

Everything.

And making love with him is like…well, it's exactly like how I always imagined it _should_ be, how they show it in movies, and how it plays out in my head when I read a good romance novel.

And it doesn't matter how often we do it, I always seem to want more, and he always seems right there with me.

Like this evening, after we knocked out the script for the social media search.

Mulder turned to look at me, where I was sitting next to him on the couch, and he smiled that crooked smile of his, and then he reached out and pushed a lock of my hair back behind my ear as he said, " _You don't have to go just yet, do you?"_

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was already eight-fifteen. If I left at that exact moment, it would be midnight or so when I get back.

 _Or I could stay another hour, because what's the difference between midnight and one?_ I mean really, being up late is being up late, and the six-thirty alarm is going to suck either way.

 _"No,"_ I answered, barely getting the word out before he brought his lips to mine.

We spent almost an entire hour making love on his couch, and it was so…I don't know, I can't explain it. Good just isn't a strong enough word. He was so gentle and thorough and reverent, like he was cataloguing every second of our time together, and he always makes me feel so beautiful and cherished.

After we finished, we didn't move for a long time, just holding each other on the couch, with the light from his laptop providing a nice, hazy glow in the room.

" _I wish you didn't have to go,_ " he said, his lips grazing a slow, easy path along my neck.

 _"Me, too,"_ I agreed. And I almost said it. I almost said, _I'm moving to New York_ , but then I held back.

Because what if it changes things for us? What if me being here all the time alters our dynamic, and it proves to be too much?

But I want this job. And I want to live here. And if he truly likes me as much as I like him, then it'll work, right?

"Of course it'll work," I said aloud in the car as I approached the Bronx-Whitestone Bridge. I reached for my phone, even though it's late, because I only left fifteen minutes ago so I know Mulder won't be asleep yet, and I really want to tell him about this job I'm going to take with the DA's office.

I reached down into the cup holder, pushing the button to call Mulder, and as I looked back up, I noticed headlights quickly approaching in my rear view mirror. I'm going the speed limit, and I'm in the right lane, so I didn't give it much thought because surely the car will go around. It's not like there's much traffic out tonight. In fact, at the moment, we're the only two cars on this side of the road in the foreseeable distance.

"You're coming back," Mulder said, answering my call, and sounding immensely pleased to hear from me.

"I wish," I remarked. "But I wanted to talk with you about something."

"Oh. Should I be worried?"

"No," I assured him quickly. "It's…"

Before I could finish the sentence, the car rammed me from behind, sending my car into a quick fishtail before I managed to right it again.

"What the hell?" I yelled, looking into my rear view mirror as my heart pounded in my chest.

"What's going on?"

"This jackass just hit me."

"What?"

"Yeah, he…"

And then he did it again, only this time, the other car kept accelerating, pushing my car faster and faster, and I tried slamming on the brakes, but his engine revved, overpowering mine.

"Mulder!" I shouted, although I have no idea what he can do because I don't even know what _I_ can do, and my car is flying out of control, and then for a brief second, the other car backed off, but before I could react at all, it hit me again, this time in the rear left, sending my car careening off to the right, into the side of the bridge, and I had the thought to try putting the gear shift into reverse, but before I could do anything, the engine revved loudly again, and I could hear tires and metal and screaming as my car was shoved over the side, sending me plunging down into the East River.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Bobby**_


	25. Chapter 25

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I don't know what it is about Sunday nights, but it seems to be our most active night for call-outs.

Although I'm not sure this exactly counts as work.

It is, but it isn't. There are six of us standing on the Whitestone bridge where less than an hour ago, Cecilia's car was forced over the edge.

And for the record, I have to say that she's a real fighter. After the nearly fifty-foot fall, she managed to escape the vehicle and swim to safety.

 _"How is she?_ " Alex asked the paramedic when we arrived on-scene. Cecilia was already loaded in the back of the ambulance, but had apparently refused to go anywhere until her _boyfriend and his detective friends_ arrived, and it looked like we were the first, although I half expect Mulder to arrive on foot at any moment, since waiting for Lupo to pick him up is probably killing him.

 _"Obvious broken right tibia. Right wrist is a maybe. Vitals are good, and she's awake and lucid, but I can't rule out internal injuries,"_ he responded. " _We need to get going."_

 _"Five more minutes,"_ I said as I rounded the back of the rig.

 _"Bobby,"_ Cecilia said, looking grateful at the sight of a friendly face. " _And Alex. Thanks for…thanks."_

 _"Mulder should be here in another minute. Lupo's bringing him,"_ I told her as I looked her over, taking note of the myriad of cuts and scratches on her face and arms. " _When he gets here, you have to let them take you to the hospital."_

 _"I will,"_ she promised. _"I just wanted to tell you what I remember, while it's still fresh, you know?"_

Alex smiled at her and moved closer, picking up her uninjured hand.

 _"We're listening,"_ she encouraged.

 _"It was black, with a big engine, like a v-8. It had a hood scoop on the front, like a sixties hot rod."_

 _"So you noticed it behind you before it ran you off the road?"_

 _"It caught up to me just before the bridge, and then was riding my ass. I kept wondering why he wouldn't just go around."_

 _"He?"_

 _"Oh, I'm saying he, but I don't know,"_ she admitted, and I'm glad she said that because there's no way she saw the driver, in the dark, through the headlights, so it makes what she _does_ say more plausible. Not that she'd lie on purpose, but sometimes people tend to unknowingly fill in blanks with assumptions.

 _"He rammed me a few times, pretty hard. He'll have front end damage. That helps you, right?"_

Assuming the car isn't abandoned somewhere…and assuming it wasn't stolen to begin with.

 _"That helps,"_ Alex assured her soothingly, breaking through my pessimistic thought process.

 _"Definitely,"_ I agreed quickly. _"Nice work."_

 _"Thanks,"_ she responded, smiling a little and then wincing as she closed her eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath.

I glanced down at her leg, where it's strapped into a brace and her jeans are cut away and there's quite a bit of blood, and then I looked at her wrist, swollen and misshapen, and in spite of the medic's hesitancy to call it a break, it seems obvious to me.

 _And yet she's worrying about details and catching the perp rather than herself._

I reached down and patted her good leg, saying gently, " _Just relax, Cecilia. You did great."_

And then we could hear Mulder calling out her name, and her attention shifted to the open rear doors. I moved out of the way just as he rounded the corner.

 _"Cilia, thank God,_ " he said as he hopped in the back. He looked like he wanted to hug her, but wasn't sure where to touch her that wouldn't hurt her, so Alex nodded towards the hand she'd been holding and then got out of his way as he took over her spot.

 _"I'm okay,"_ she assured him, her voice once again strong and sure.

 _"Impressive,_ " Alex said quietly to me as we headed for the bridge.

 _"I was thinking she reminds me of you,"_ I admitted.

We both paused as Lupo and Connie hustled to catch up to us, and then I saw Mike and Carolyn's car rolling in, so we suspended the dialogue until they joined us, too, which is where we are now, on the bridge.

"What are we thinking?" Mike asked, after Alex and I brought the others up to speed on Cecilia's condition. "Accident? Or intentional?"

"She said he bumped her several times. Hard to believe that would be accidental, even if the driver was intoxicated," I pointed out.

"And her father is Giovanni Pirelli. That's a hard fact to overlook," Alex said.

"But it's been more than a month since she and Mulder hacked him. Do we really think he even knows about her?"

"Maybe he's always known," I suggested. "Maybe the mother kept him in the loop."

"I doubt that," Carolyn replied. "If she went as far as to use someone else's ID in the hospital, then she wasn't sharing information with her Mafioso one-night stand."

Alex nodded her agreement, and my gaze shifted down to the river, where Cecilia's car is somewhere at the bottom.

"She was complaining about her car the other day," Lupo said quietly, his focus following mine. "She said she had to be the only person in the world who still has crank-down windows."

"They probably saved her life," Connie said. "Power windows would've shorted out, and she could've been stuck inside."

"Which I'm guessing was the idea," Mike mused. "Okay, so…now what? Who else did you call?"

He turned to Lupo as he asked the question, but Lupo shrugged.

"Just you guys. I probably wouldn't have even called you, but I wasn't sure how bad it would be, and I didn't want to be investigating if Mulder needed me because…well, in case she didn't make it," he managed to say.

I can tell he and Connie are both really shaken by this, even though none of us knows Cecilia all that well, but surely it's due to their affection for Mulder. And Lupo, like me and Mike, is probably putting himself in Mulder's shoes, projecting how he'd feel if this happened to Connie. God knows the scenario ran through my mind, with Alex. And we've come close enough to something like this for it to be an easy image to conjure up. Too many close calls. Too many brushes with death.

"Not Bernard?" I asked, surprised that he didn't touch base with his partner.

"Yeah, um…I didn't want him to leave Lauren alone. Although I guess she would've come with him to something like this," he added belatedly, as if it just occurred to him that she _would've_ come, without a doubt.

"So she really pulled the plug on the Flowers' search?" Mike asked.

"It was taking its toll," Lupo stated vaguely. "Anyway, yeah, so I figured since I wasn't calling B, I'd call you." He nodded at me and then added with a smartass half-smile, "And I know how Logan hates to be left out, when it comes to late night call-outs."

"Damn straight," Mike agreed with a grin, and then he put his hand on Lupo's shoulder and said, "Sounds like she's going to be fine, but why don't you guys head over to the hospital to be with Mulder."

"And keep us posted," Alex said as we all hugged them goodbye, and then it was down to just the four of us.

"We need to call the chief," Carolyn said. "And not just for business. Liz will want to know."

"Liz will want to drive like a maniac to the hospital and then bark orders at everyone until she's sure Cecilia's properly taken care of," Mike elaborated, causing all of us to chuckle at the image, knowing he's exactly right, but after our light moment, Alex exhaled a long breath as she shook her head.

"She should be dead," she said quietly. "Going off the bridge, into the river, in the dark…I don't know how she's not dead."

"And since she's not, then we better hurry the hell up and figure out the who and why, before they take another run at her."

"I just don't get it," Carolyn murmured. "She doesn't even live here. Who knew she was visiting Mulder? I mean, even if we're thinking Pirelli, then why would he try the hit here, when he lives in the same city with her?"

"To throw off suspicion?" I tossed out. "Her mother lives in the city."

"So you think she's the one who tried to kill her?" Alex asked me. "Or just that he did it here to make it look like it was Vanessa? And just because Vanessa doesn't want to be her mother doesn't mean she'd try to kill her."

"I know, but…I honestly have no idea," I admitted. "How much do we really know about Cecilia?"

"Not nearly enough," Mike agreed. "Growing up in the system, computers for a living…she could've amassed a few enemies."

"She's a quiet, sweet, almost thirty year old woman who lives alone with her dog," Alex countered. "You really think she has enemies? The kind who might try to kill her?"

Mike shrugged at her, because none of us has the answer.

"She met Mulder a month or so ago. She's been hanging out with some of us," I pointed out.

"And God knows everybody and their brother wants to off us," Mike said sarcastically, once again smiling just a little.

"No, he might be onto something," Carolyn said. "Mulder's working for the FBI now. In a month's time, he certainly could've pissed off the wrong criminal. And if anyone was watching him, they would've seen Cecilia, would've seen her leave his place…"

"It's possible," Alex admitted, then she looked at her watch, surely taking note of the late hour, before nodding to Carolyn and saying encouragingly, "Call the chief."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because it was your idea."

"To call our boss to tell him we're all out working a case that isn't a Major Case?" she retorted. "I think that should've been on all of our minds."

"But you said it out loud."

"You're his favorite."

"Are you kidding me?" Alex laughed, while Mike and I stood back and enjoyed the friendly bickering, the release of tension and stress through the back-and-forth.

"No, she's right," Mike said. "Of all of us, you're the only one he never disliked."

"Oh my God," she said with a roll of her eyes as she pulled out her phone.

Funny thing is, it's an old argument that has no merit anymore. It's not like calling Ross is going to create any friction. More likely, he'll put Liz in a car and drop her at the hospital and then he'll come out here himself to assist. As chiefs go, he's the best one yet. And of course, I honestly like the man. All of us do.

"I'll do it," I said as I plucked her phone from her hand.

She looked at me in surprise, a small smile on her face, and then she said smartly, "Dear Diary…today, Bobby willingly called the boss…"

"Ha ha," I deflected, and then because I can, I leaned over and stole a quick kiss before dialing the number.

"Breaking the Goren rule," Mike admonished. "Let _me_ talk to the boss."

I turned away from him, keeping the phone from his grasp, just as Ross answered.

"You must have ESP, Mrs. Goren," he said, clearly not having been awakened by the ringing of his phone.

"It's actually Mr. Eames," I joked, and then I suddenly felt bad for joking, considering where we are, and yet…why shouldn't we be happy? Like we said, it's a miracle that she wasn't killed, so we should celebrate in the fact that she only has a broken leg.

Of course, then it hit me what he said about ESP, but before I could ask, he responded.

"Uh oh," he groaned. "Bobby Goren, calling me on a Sunday night. This can't be good."

"It's not," I agreed, and then I added in a rambling manner, "I mean, it could be worse, and it's surprising it's not worse, but it's still not great, although…"

"Give me the damn phone, Bobby," Alex said, grabbing onto my arm to pull my hand down to within her reach, and then she took her phone from me and spoke to Ross, quickly and efficiently giving him all of the particulars.

"He said something about ESP," I told her quietly as she listened to his response, so then she asked him about it, and then she mouthed _case_ to me.

"You guys are on call tonight?" Mike asked me.

I nodded in response, and after another moment, Alex handed her phone to Carolyn.

"He wants them to work it," she said to me while Carolyn talked to Ross. "A body washed up in Coney Island Creek Park. He's having the officers hold the scene until we get there."

"Okay," I said, turning once more to look at the river, because as usual, I hate walking away during the middle of something, and yet I'm not going to put up a fuss about it. Ross wouldn't ask us to take the new murder if it weren't important, and I certainly trust Mike and Carolyn to get the job done here.

"And Bobby," she added, reaching out to touch my arm, calling my focus back to her. "There's no ID on the victim, but she had your card in her pocket."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Lupo**_


	26. Chapter 26

**Lupo POV**

* * *

"Hey, Lupes, are you listening to me?"

"What?"

I looked across the desks at my partner, who apparently said something to me, and I shook my head in an effort to clear my brain.

I mean, yeah, I was up for a good portion of the night last night, but that's no excuse for my lack of focus today.

It's just that I can't stop thinking about Mulder and Cecilia.

 _"This is my fault. This has to be my fault. I did something. I looked at something or opened something or spied on someone who caught on…shit, this is all my fault."_

That's what Mulder said to me last night, his voice filled with quiet desperation, as we stood in the ER waiting room. It was going on two hours, and the chief had already come and gone, leaving Liz in his wake, so she and Connie were out of the room at the moment, the former searching for information on Cecilia and the latter getting coffee.

I was feeling completely out of my element, too, because Connie's usually the nurturer, and I had no idea what to say to him to stop the self-flagellation, especially since I'm such a pro at that myself, so instead of talking, I just pulled him into a hug.

He gripped me tightly, seemingly appreciative of the support, and he stalled his self-directed rant, instead saying, " _What if she's not okay? I mean, did you see how far she fell? What if something's really wrong? Maybe that's why it's taking so long."_

 _"She's fine,"_ I promised. " _She talked to you all the way here, right?"_

 _"Yeah,"_ he admitted, finally loosening his grip on me and taking a step back. " _Yeah, she did. I guess it's just…you know, my brother…"_

I'd forgotten he lost his brother due to a car wreck.

 _"This isn't the same thing,"_ I reminded him, settling my hand on his shoulder, and as I looked him over, I was amazed by the difference in him, between now and when we first met.

He stands straight and tall, and he looks me in the eye, and he talks…well, not completely normal, but I can usually understand him now.

He's just so _grown_.

 _"I know,"_ he said with a nod. _"I know, it's just…if she's not okay…"_

 _"She is,_ " Liz supplied as she approached. " _They just finished with her in x-ray a little bit ago, and it doesn't look like she'll need surgery, but they do want to keep her overnight for observation. But Mulder…she's going to be fine. I looked at her chart, so it's not just doctor-speak. She really is doing well. I told the nurse to get her ass down her as soon as they get her into a room, so you'll be able to see her."_

He turned to Liz and hugged her hard as he exhaled heavily in relief. They stayed like that for a minute or two, and then a nurse came up and looked warily at Liz before looking at me and Mulder and asking, _"Um…is one of you…Mulder?"_

 _"Yeah, that's me."_

 _"Come on, I'll show you to Ms. Chambers' room."_

About that time, Connie returned with the coffees, so the three of us followed Mulder and the nurse, ignoring protocol of only one visitor at a time since we had Liz with us.

It was another two hours before Connie and I left the hospital. After seeing Cecilia and confirming for ourselves that she is, in fact, okay - and she is, aside from the cast on her leg and the splint on her wrist - we still waited around until an officer showed up, to keep watch outside her door.

The chief had agreed with my suggestion, since we have no idea if this was a true attempt on her life, or just some dickhead driver with a bad case of road rage.

Anyway, once the officer arrived, and I reiterated his instructions to not let anyone without ID or Cecilia's approval into the room, we said our goodbyes.

" _I'm going to hang here,"_ Mulder told me.

 _"I figured,"_ I said with a smile. " _You call me if you need anything, right? Anything at all."_

 _"I will,"_ he promised. _"And Lupo…thanks. Really. It seems I keep saying that. But you know, one of these days, I'm going to repay you for everything you've done for me._

 _"There's nothing to repay."_

 _"Are you kidding me? I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I mean, not here, but **here** , you know? I wouldn't be anywhere."_

He hugged me again, and then we left. Liz had gone a few minutes before, on the promise that she'd go back and check on them this morning, and help along the discharge process. Mulder called in sick today, since Cecilia's going to be staying with him for a little while. He was worried about what his boss would think, since he's only a month into the job, but I assured him it would be okay. And then I called Carolyn to ask her to make a follow-up call to Agent Stern. Mulder doesn't need any trouble on the work front, in addition to everything else.

 _"It won't be a problem,"_ Carolyn assured me.

 _"So what have you guys found? Anything?"_ I asked, as I realized I'd made the call in the middle of the night. Of course, she didn't sound sleepy, so I'm sure she and Logan are still working. Ross mentioned that he had to put Bobby and Alex on another case, so they're working it alone, but I have no doubt they'll get to the bottom of it before too long.

" _We found the car,"_ she responded. _"Or at least, what we assume is the car. It's a sixty-eight Chevy Nova with a hood scoop and front-end damage. Cecilia hit the nail on the head with her description."_

 _"I'm guessing it was ditched?"_

 _"Uh huh. A few miles away, at Bronx State. A campus security guard gave us a call after the notice went out."_

 _"Did he see anything? Is there security footage, there or along the way? Registration?"_

It's one thing I love and appreciate about the way our department works now. The way my friends work. Things don't slip through the cracks. We might think differently about crime scenes or motives or whatever, but all of us walk through the investigative steps with thorough attention to detail.

So I didn't ask the question because I think she skipped a step. I asked because I know she _didn't_ , and I'm curious about the answers.

 _"He noticed the car on his rounds, but the driver was already gone. There's damage to the front wheel well, so I'm guessing the driver ditched out of necessity more than anything. It would've been a bitch to drive,_ " she told me. " _The surveillance video showed a figure getting out of the car, but it's dark and he's wearing a hood. He seemed to realize there were cameras, and he made a point to keep his face hidden."_

 _"But it is a man."_

 _"I'm fairly certain. Body type, gait, shoe size…"_

 _"Shoe size?"_ I asked, finally cracking a smile. " _Come on, even you aren't that good."_

She chuckled and said, " _He had really big feet. I'm not saying I can get it down to the exact size, but definitely in the twelve to thirteen neighborhood."_

 _"Okay, so…a man,_ " I mused.

 _"Registration lists the car as being owned by Mark Bayner. We ran a search on him, though, and that's not our guy."_

 _"Let me guess. He wears size nine?_ " I joked.

 _"He's seventy-two,_ " she answered. _"But guess where he lives, where his car was stolen from two days ago."_

 _"Boston,"_ I supplied, since it seemed obvious considering the way she said it.

 _"Yep. So we have to take a hard look at Pirelli. Mike and I are going up to Boston tomorrow. Or, today I guess,"_ she said, in deference to the time. _"But we need to talk with Cecilia, too. She's still alright?"_

 _"Tucked in for the night. Mulder's with her, and there's a uniform on the door."_

 _"Good. Okay, so we're going to head home and get a few hours of sleep. I'll put in a call to Stern in the morning, and then we'll check in with Cecilia before heading out of town."_

 _"Sounds good. Thanks, Carolyn, I appreciate this."_

 _"Hey, we love Mulder, too,"_ she said softly. " _And he really seems to like her, so…it's a given."_

I hung up with her, and grabbed onto Connie's hand, as she drove us home. We were in bed by four, and the alarm was set for seven.

Three hours sucks, by anyone's standards, but like I said, I've done more on less, so I'm guessing it's my concern over Mulder and the hit on Cecilia rather than sheer exhaustion that has my brain on hiatus.

"No. I'm sorry," I said to Bernard. "What were you saying?"

He held my gaze for a moment, expressing sympathy I guess, although he's the one who's going to end up pissing off his wife because we're still investigating Flowers, or at least until we get a new case. And I have a feeling that B managed to talk Ross into putting us at the bottom of the list, so for the next however long, we're doing exactly what Lauren asked us not to do. Which means if either of us needs a little sympathy, it's probably him.

"His mother's social," he said quietly. "There's some activity."

"His ten-years-dead mother?" I asked, perking up and getting myself back into the moment.

"Uh huh. Bank account opened in Jersey City, and another in Hoboken, both using that number, and each with different names."

"Looks like we need to take a ride," I said, standing up and reaching for my jacket. "We show his picture to the employee who opened it, confirm it's him."

"You mean as opposed to someone else using the stolen identity of a dead woman?"

"Well, yeah," I responded with a shrug. "I mean, who knows? She raised a son as shitty as him, so maybe she was familiar with other shady characters, too, you know?"

"True," he nodded thoughtfully. He stood up, too, and cast a glance in the direction of Lauren's desk. She and Eames are out somewhere, working their case, but I still feel a little guilty, and I imagine B does, too.

"She's gonna be ticked when she finds out," I reminded him needlessly.

"I know."

"I mean, ticked. She was pretty adamant about letting it go."

"Would you?" he countered.

"No," I admitted.

"And if this _is_ him, he's in Jersey. Forty-five minutes by car. That sure as hell ain't far enough away for me."

I didn't mention the fact that just because he opened bank accounts in Jersey doesn't mean he's staying there. It wouldn't surprise me to learn he's within a five-mile radius of either 1PP, or their home.

Guys like this don't stop.

Sure, it's been a month since he was last spotted, but all that tells me is that he's smart enough to lay low until the heat subsides.

So yeah, Bernard's absolutely right to keep after him, but at the same time, I get Lauren's point. It's taken over their lives, and living scared is no way to live.

"Lead?" Bobby asked me as we passed his desk. He kept his voice down, which tells me he knows what we're up to, even though supposedly only me and B and Ross know. The fact that he _is_ talking quietly even though Lauren isn't here makes me appreciate his discretion, because if he knows, then Alex knows, which means the Logans probably know, but at least he's making an effort for it to stop there.

Although hell, Connie knows, so she probably mentioned it to Cutter, who would've told Jennifer, who would've told Mary, so John knows…and Ross knows, so Liz knows, possibly Jeremy and Aaron…and Mulder and Cecilia were the ones who suggested checking out Flowers' mom, so surely _they_ know we're still looking…

The serious downside to having so many friends.

But I'm not complaining. I've been on the other end, the one that has me entirely alone with no one to count on but myself. This end is much better. And Lauren may get upset with B and me and everyone else when she learns what we're doing, but she'll get over it, because she has to at least _suspect_ that none of us would be able to drop it. We all care about her too much. And we all care about getting justice too much. A guy like Flowers shouldn't be anywhere but behind bars or dead.

"Two bank accounts opened using the mom's social," I answered. "We're going to check it out, see if we can get a confirmed ID."

"Get the footage," Alex added, without even looking up. "He may have altered his appearance, so that might come in handy."

"And whatever you can get from the accounts," Bobby said. "Crosscheck the two, see what overlaps because what does might not be fake."

I nodded, appreciating their input, mostly because it matched my plan of attack already and it's always nice to have validation, and then I asked, "How's your case coming? Did you ID your vic yet?"

"Nineteen year old Polish immigrant," Alex said, finally bringing her eyes up to mine. "She was waiting on her green card."

Bernard looked at me, tilting his head sideways as though it were ringing a bell for him.

"Is that familiar to you?" I asked him.

"Maybe. Wasn't there a case last fall?" he asked and then turned back to Bobby and Alex. So did I, and I found both of them nodding and staring at each other.

"It was ours," Bobby answered at last. "The girls were forced into prostitution, extorted by the threat of deportation."

"Tattoos," Bernard said suddenly. "I remember the sheet on this one. Good luck, right?"

"That's it," Alex said. "And the ringleader is behind bars, awaiting appeal after the fiasco with the DA computer system being hacked."

"Wait, so she's in jail, but another victim turned up?"

"Uh huh," Alex said in annoyance. "So either we missed one of the players, or she's working on an elaborate scheme to convince the court of her innocence."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Bernard**_


	27. Chapter 27

**Bernard POV**

* * *

I'm not entirely comfortable with my deceit, and yet I still feel justified.

Finding Flowers has to be priority one.

Even if it means Lauren gets mad at me.

But at the same time, I was really hoping she didn't call while me and Lupo were in Jersey.

I didn't want to lie outright, and somehow a lie by omission doesn't seem quite as bad.

Regardless, like I said, even if I had to lie, it would be worth it, especially after what we learned.

 _"Yes, that's him,"_ a clerk at Provident bank confirmed, as she looked at a photo of Bill Flowers. _"Mr. Hayes."_

 _"Oh, you gotta be kidding me,"_ I muttered in disgust. _"Mr. Hayes?"_

The clerk looked at me, obviously confused by my unmasked contempt, and I didn't like the way she suddenly seemed to go on the defensive.

 _"Is there a problem with the account?"_ she asked primly.

 _"What's the first name?_ " Lupo pressed, ignoring her question.

 _"Bill. He opened the account three weeks ago, and I can assure you…"_

 _"Activity?"_ I interrupted. _"Deposits? Withdrawals? Has he used an ATM anywhere, and if so, we need dates and times."_

Because maybe we can track him via surveillance footage. At least a little bit. Or maybe we can figure out a pattern of behavior. Or a favorite place to eat. _Some_ thing.

 _"You probably need a warrant for that type of information, don't you?_ " she asked me challengingly.

 _"He's an escaped felon,"_ I said sharply, annoyed with her reluctance. _"And he used a fake identity to open an account."_

 _"So you say,"_ she countered.

 _"So I say? This man right here,"_ I shouted, jabbing at the photo. _"Is_ _ **not**_ _Bill Hayes. So it's not just what I say, it's fact!"_

 _"Did he show ID?"_ Lupo intervened in an attempt to keep the peace.

 _"Of course. A driver's license is required."_

 _"And you have a copy of it?"_

 _"I'm sure we do,"_ she answered, without making any move to produce it, and I was seriously losing my patience with the woman, but before I could really go off on her, Lupo caught my eye and said, " _It's fine. Let's go."_

 _"Go?"_ I asked him in irritation, but only after we were back in the parking lot. I try not to ever question him in front of others, because we don't work like that, and especially not _now_ when he's the level head in all of this. But I certainly don't mind asking him to explain, once we're in private.

" _It'll take Mulder five seconds to hack that account, even from just his cell phone,_ " he pointed out.

Funny how he didn't blink about stating we'll just hack to get the information we want, in spite of the illegalities. But of course, this case is different, and not just because of whose life might be in danger. Flowers is an escaped felon. We aren't trying to ascertain information in an effort to make a case against him. We're just trying to _find_ him. Big difference.

 _"And that woman wasn't going to give you anything,"_ he continued.

 _"Yeah, I got that,_ " I agreed, trying to calm my ire. " _I just don't get why."_

 _"He doesn't look like a killer,"_ he reminded me.

 _"Yeah, yeah, I know. He's good looking, probably charismatic when he wants to be…"_

 _"Exactly. So let's forget about her, and check out the next one, and then we'll get Mulder to fill in the blanks for us."_

 _"Hey, maybe we'll get lucky and Hudson City Savings will be more cooperative."_

They weren't.

But we got another visual confirmation, and the potential for more activity, so I'm going to hold out hope.

Although it really pisses me off, the name he's using.

Bill Hayes.

And maybe that's why he did it. To taunt. Maybe he thought Lauren would be the one to find it. I don't like that idea because if he truly expected her to find it, then he's not leaving breadcrumbs that'll do us any good, because it's all intentional on his part.

Or is it? Is he really that smart?

I don't know. Maybe he just used the name because he likes to think the two of them have some kind of bond.

He _must_ think that, if he's willing to risk going back to prison just to stay near here, on the hope that he'll have another opportunity to…to… _hurt_ her.

During the first part of the drive, I sat in the passenger seat of the car and silently fumed. Lupo barely said a word, and I was appreciative of that. There's just too much going on in my head to be able to hold up my end of a conversation.

Then Mulder called, so I put my own issues on hold and listened, since Lupo put it on speaker, figuring it was an update on Cecilia.

" _Hey, McClane, you got me on speaker?"_ he asked immediately.

 _"It's just me and B,"_ Lupo responded. " _What's up? How's Cecilia?"_

 _"The doc cracked the whip, you know what I'm saying? Me, I just got **soon** , you know, but then Liz showed up, and owned it."_

I furrowed my brow and stared hard at the phone, where it set in the cup holder, as if it would somehow magically translate for me. It didn't.

 _"What?"_ I asked after another second. " _Does that mean she's doing okay?"_

 _"It means we're home,"_ he clarified. _"I mean, at my place. And yeah, she's great, although I feel kind of bad that now she's stuck sleeping in my bed, you know?"_

 _"Wasn't she already in your bed anyway?"_ Lupo asked.

 _"I know, right?"_ he replied, sounding a little amazed by that fact, and I finally had to chuckle.

 _"But check it,"_ he continued. " _Now she has to be. I mean, she can't go home. Not yet, at least. The elevator's out for the count at her place, and no way can she do stairs, so…I just feel for her, you know?"_

 _"Look at it this way,"_ I offered. _"This will jumpstart your relationship to the next level, and it'll either work or it won't, but at least then you'll know. It's like skipping ahead a few months."_

 _"You think it won't work?"_

 _"What he's saying is that if you two still like each other after forced cohabitation, then you're golden,"_ Lupo explained.

 _"Yeah, okay,"_ he said. _"So, anyway, um…hey, I was wondering if…I mean, I wanted to ask…um…"_

 _"Spit it out, Mulder,"_ I encouraged, and now I'm actually smiling. I can't believe how much I like this kid.

" _Well, you know, since we don't know yet what's going on with Cilia, I mean, whether or not someone was really trying to…to…you know…but anyway, I know the chief still has the guy in the black and white downstairs, but…you know, I'm a lot more responsible than I used to be, and I do work for the FBI, and…"_

 _"You want a gun,_ " Lupo finished for him.

 _"I have to keep her safe, man, you know what I'm saying?"_

I glanced over at Lupo to see his reaction, although admittedly my first thought wasn't just _no_ but _hell no_ because what does Mulder know about guns?

And then I thought about how glad I am that both Lauren and I have ours, right beside our bed when we go to sleep at night, just in case.

 _"I get what you're saying, but there's more to it than just buying one,"_ Lupo answered. _"If you're serious about it, then we'll spend some time at the range, and I'll teach you everything you need to know about weapon responsibility."_

 _"But…"_

 _"And in the meantime,"_ he continued. _"I get that you want to feel safe, for both of you, so how about we compromise with a Taser?"_

They talked about it for a few more minutes, with Lupo telling Mulder he would bring him a Taser gun this evening, and then promising to schedule time with him at the range.

 _"Smart,"_ I commented after he hung up.

Lupo looked over at me and asked, " _Yeah?"_

 _"I think you've got this dad thing down,"_ I said with a smile.

He grunted dubiously, turning his focus back to the road, and then he said, " _It may not matter."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"I mean, it's been a month and still…nothing."_

 _"A month. One month,"_ I stated purposefully. " _Did you really think it wouldn't take longer than that?"_

 _"I think…a lot of times it happens on a one-night stand, so how can it not work when two people who really want it are going at it three and four times a day?"_

I started to respond, but before I could say anything, he said, " _Oh, hey, I'm sorry, B. I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't thinking."_

It took me a minute, because my mind hadn't automatically jumped there. I mean, we were talking about him and Connie. Not me and Rosemary, and our one night stand that produced a son.

 _"It's okay,"_ I assured him, not offended by his remark. _"I get what you're saying, but you just have to be patient."_

 _"I'm just…I'm wondering if it's me. You know, I smoked a lot of pot back in the day, and that can affect…things."_

It's strange how mine and Lupo's relationship has evolved. A year ago, we would never have been having this conversation. It would be considered _much_ too personal. But now we don't seem to have any boundaries, when it comes to conversation, and I like it. It's nice being able to talk through things with someone, someone in addition to my wife, I mean.

 _"Lupes, my cousin went through a dime bag a day back in the nineties, and now he has four kids. I mean, if you were still smoking it, then maybe, but something you did twenty-five years ago? I think you're safe."_

He pondered that for a minute, so I added, " _And their kids are all two years apart. Except for the youngest. He's five years younger, because it took them an extra three years to make it happen."_

 _"Three years?"_

 _"Yeah, and I'm not saying it'll take that long, but even if it does, think of all the fun you'll have in those three years,"_ I pointed out. _"If you just relax about it."_

He exhaled heavily and then started nodding as he said, _"Yeah, okay, I know."_

I chuckled then, and said, _"And damn, Lupes, three or four times a day? You might be my new hero."_

My comment had him laughing, and the conversation devolved into something fairly juvenile, but it helped lighten both of our moods. And, as I hoped, I managed to make it back to the city without a call from Lauren.

But my relief over that fact had me rethinking my deception. Is this really how I want our marriage to go? Lying when I think it's justified?

"I'll meet you upstairs," I said to Lupo as we got out of the car. "I need to make a call."

"To confess your sins?" he teased knowingly, but I just waved him off, my mind already focused on doing exactly that.

"Hey, you busy?" I asked when Lauren answered her cell. I figured she probably _wasn't_ , since she answered, but it never hurts to be sure.

"Eames and I are knocking off for lunch. You? Did you catch a case?"

"Not yet. Um…is Eames still with you?"

"No," she answered carefully. "Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure you're going to yell at me and I'd rather you not do it in front of him."

She was quiet for a moment, and I know she has to know what I'm about to say, but I feel like I need to man up and actually say it, so I ventured, "Lupo and I went to Jersey this morning to follow up on a lead on Flowers."

"You're still working the case," she said, her tone inscrutable.

"Yes. And I know you asked me to let it go, but…I just…Lauren, I can't."

She sighed, and I held my breath as I waited for the onslaught that I absolutely deserve, but it never came.

"I had a feeling," she said softly. "Especially after the idea came up for looking into his mother. I'm guessing that's what netted you a lead? In Jersey?"

So I filled her in on what we found, and what we learned from the banks, and how we're going to get Mulder to get the details for us.

"Okay," she said when I finished.

"Okay? As in, you're cutting me off for the next two weeks as my punishment? Or okay as in, you're heading to your lawyer's office this afternoon to draw up papers? Or…"

"B," she interrupted, and I swear to God, the sound of her laughter is just the best damn sound ever. "Okay, as in, we're fine. I'm not mad."

"You aren't mad," I repeated, because I have to say, I think I'd be mad if I were her.

Wouldn't I? Would I be mad at her if she did something to protect me, even if I asked her not to?

No, probably not. I can't imagine there's much she could do that would truly make me mad. Of course, we've only been married a month, but still…

"No," she assured me. "And even if I were, do you really think that I'd want a divorce?"

"Well, maybe not."

"Or that I'd withhold sex? Come on, that'd be punishing me more than you."

I barked out a laugh at her unexpected remark, and then she continued, saying, "I'm glad you told me, B. And yeah, I'm not crazy about it, but…I suppose it's my fault."

"Your fault?"

"I'm the genius who married a detective, in spite of my mother's wishes," she said playfully. "I mean, you really think a nice civil attorney would spend time tracking down an escaped felon?"

I smiled, reveling in the rush of emotion that went through me, because she's just the most amazing person.

"God, I love you," I told her.

"I love you, too," she replied, her voice soft and sweet, and damn, I wish we were talking face to face instead of on the phone, because I still feel guilty about my field trip this morning, and I just want to feel her in my arms.

"But B," she continued. "Ground rules, okay? That case stays _outside_ of our home. I don't want you doing research all hours of the night."

"Got it," I vowed. And I _will_ keep this promise, because I know I was making myself crazy, and when I get like that, I'm not any good to anyone. And how many nights did she wake up alone, after a nightmare, because I was in the other room working the case?

Too many, but we aren't doing that anymore.

After my conversation with Lauren, I hustled upstairs, where Lupo and I spent the afternoon digging through the information Mulder was able to acquire for us, stemming from the bank accounts, and by quitting time, my eyes were burning and my head was pounding and I was just ready to go home.

Although we made progress.

Good progress.

But as promised, I pushed Flowers from my mind when I entered the apartment. I was surprised to see Lauren already home, since she and Eames are still on an active case, but she was in the kitchen, and there was something cooking on the stove, and she had one glass of wine in her hand, and there was another on the counter.

"You cooked," I said, stating the obvious as I rounded the counter and bypassed the wine she picked up and held out to me, and instead just hugged her tightly.

"I did," she murmured, her face buried against my chest.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Me, too. It wasn't fair of me to ask you to stop."

"I should've told you sooner," I insisted. She squirmed against me a little, so I let her go, even though I didn't want to, but then I realized she just wanted to set down the glasses, and once they were on the counter, she went back into my arms.

"It's done," she said. "And we're good."

The kiss that followed was downright inspiring, and next thing I knew, she reached behind me to turn off the stove, and then took me by the hand, leading me down the hall to the bedroom.

"Thank God you didn't want to punish me by withholding sex," I joked as she began unbuttoning my shirt.

"You really expected that? What kind of women have you dated?" she questioned, looking at me quizzically.

"All of the wrong ones, until you."

It was an hour later when we made it back into the kitchen, where she turned the stove on again to reheat our dinner, and as it warmed, she turned to me and said, "Okay, I know I said it stays outside, but I have to know, so let's give it ten minutes, and then we're done. What did you find out today?"

"The addresses he used on the accounts were bogus, but we did manage to pin down a few things. He's eating in a lot of restaurants between here and 1PP," I told her. "ATM activity is focused in that vicinity, too."

"So he's probably keeping an eye on me."

"Probably, yes."

"Why do you think he's waiting to make a move?" she mused, although she doesn't look upset. Determined, maybe.

"Maybe he's still trying to figure out his best opportunity."

"I can't believe he's been out in public and no one's turned him in."

"Lupes said it's because he's good looking. People have trouble equating attractiveness to evil."

She nodded thoughtfully and said, "So what's your plan?"

"Stake out his favorite places. Keep an eye on his bank activity. And make sure you always have someone else with you. Seems like he's afraid to approach you, when you're not alone."

She was quiet again for another moment, and then she said, "Okay, we're done. How's Cecilia doing, have you heard from Mulder?"

Remarkably enough, it seemed we were able to fully exorcise Flowers from our home, and it was a nice, quiet evening. I was thinking that we might take advantage of being home, and go to bed early, but around eight o'clock, she got a text.

"It's Jennifer," she told me as she opened the message. She read it, and then sighed and said, "She wants me to come over."

"That's kind of odd, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but she's…yeah," she said, and then she kissed me hard before saying, "She's going through stuff right now, and I guess she's not talking to Mike because she's home instead of at his place, so…seems like she needs a friend. Do you mind if I go?"

"Of course not. She's lucky to have you," I encouraged, dismissing my disappointment because I'd hate to think about Jennifer being upset, and home alone. "But I'll drive you, okay? I won't come up, but I'll take you over there."

"I'll make it up to you when I get back," she promised coyly, running her hand over my cheek. "And no working on the case while I'm gone."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said, and then she raised her eyebrow at me skeptically, and I thought about how it'll probably take at least an hour or two, and I do have some ideas about how to find out where he might be staying, so then I said, "Or how about I work on it, but _only_ while you're gone?"

She held my gaze for another moment, and I had the brief wish that we never had to leave this spot, with her on my lap and those blue eyes staring at me, and she has a half-smile on her face, and her hand on my cheek, and I'm struck once again by the astonishing fact that this is _my wife_.

And you know what? Our agreement included keeping him out of our home, and I know we talked about him earlier, but that was at _her_ request.

"Or not," I amended. "I'll just…read a book or something."

She smiled fully and said, "Work it while I'm gone, if you want. I'll just make sure that when I get home, I make you forget about everything but me."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: John**_


	28. Chapter 28

**John POV**

* * *

"Let's call it a day."

"Are you sure?" Jessica responded, looking around the mess of files and boxes that litter the floor of the penthouse suite. It's the smaller of the suites, and I've confiscated it as my new office, to replace the Atlantic City office.

I know that means less potential income for the Millennium, but I don't care about that. Besides, hopefully Mary and I will buy that house soon, and then we'll move out of the suite where we've been living, and that'll even things out.

"I don't mind staying a little longer," she continued as she regarded me carefully.

"I'm fine," I told her, answering her unasked question because even though she didn't say _are you okay_ this time, she's said it dozens of times in the past three weeks. Ever since we learned about Rocco.

"Who asked?" she replied smartly, flashing me a smile before digging into another box. "I'm just saying, you can go and I'll see what I can do about getting us a little more organized."

She's been putting in a lot of hours, helping me make the transition. And I know I haven't been the most delightful person to be around, because honestly, I'm swamped with guilt.

How could I not see that Rocco was in trouble?

 _Because I'm obsessed with Mary and my new life_ , I reminded myself. So apparently, I ignored one of my oldest friends. _Or employee_ , I corrected. Because _was_ he my friend?

I mean, sure, he's been with me for years. It's because of him that I survived the whole Heidi incident.

But are we _friends_?

I don't know. I don't know who his other friends might be. I don't know anything about his family, other than that he said they _weren't close_. I don't know where he went at night, after he finished with me for the day, other than home to the apartment I paid for. And I sure as hell have no idea where he's been these past three weeks.

" _This says he has a brother in Des Moines,_ " Mary told me, reading from a file as she and I went through Rocco's apartment, that first day after we realized he'd taken off.

" _He never mentioned a brother,"_ I mumbled as I glanced at the bookshelves in his living room. They were filled with crime novels. True crime stuff. Non-fiction. " _He never mentioned an obsession with murder, either."_

Mary looked over at me and then at the books, but she shrugged it off.

" _A lot of people like books like that,_ " she reasoned. " _Doesn't make him a killer."_

 _"Doesn't not,"_ I replied childishly.

 _"You knew about the mental health issues?"_ she asked me, putting the file on the table as she walked over to me. We'd already found the pill bottles, the ones with far too many pills in them, considering the date on the label.

 _"Uh huh. He disclosed that he was under treatment, and that the medication did the trick."_

It was just the two of us in the apartment. Since it's technically my place, she didn't have to bother with a warrant to search the premises. Jennifer was on her way, but at the moment, we were alone, but I was still surprised when Mary wrapped her arms around me.

 _"This isn't your fault, John,"_ she said quietly.

 _"No? He's been with me since day one, and I can't even give you any leads on how to find him. What does that tell you about how well I know my people?"_

 _"He was your right hand man for twenty years, but that doesn't mean he shared the personal aspects of his life, and that doesn't make you a bad person."_

 _"Apparently it does. He put out a hit on me. He threatened you. What was his end game? Do you think he really wanted me dead, or he just wanted to scare me? Do you think he anticipated the Albanians would actually come after me?"_

 _"He stopped taking his pills. It's impossible to know what he was thinking."_

I hummed my agreement, and held onto my wife, appreciating the comforting feel of being held by her, but after another moment, I let her go.

We were supposed to be looking for clues.

Jennifer arrived a few minutes later, and after spending another hour in Rocco's apartment, we had a few answers.

We found a Xeroxed copy of Mary's file on the Albanian case. The burn phone that made the calls to Detroit. Email printouts of correspondence between me and Mary over the past few months.

" _Well this is creepy,"_ Jennifer commented when she showed us the pages. " _Seems like he's been spying on you._ "

 _"For a while,"_ Mary remarked as she looked at the dates. " _He might have been off his meds for longer than we thought."_

 _"Or they weren't working as good as he thought,_ " Jennifer posed. _"We need to see when he last visited his doctor, find out the last time they checked his levels."_

But to me, it seemed too easy, to just blame everything on his condition. I mean, he's always been fine. Or at least, he always _seemed_ fine.

 _Maybe he was just really good at hiding it_ , I realized.

At the time, I was still so hurt by the feeling of betrayal.

Now, three weeks later, I'm feeling hurt _and_ responsible.

I looked over at Jessica, as she carefully arranged files into a cabinet drawer, and I said, "So how's the apartment search coming?"

She's currently living in the Millennium, until she finds a place. The move to Manhattan caused her to uproot her life, so I'm trying to make it as painless as possible for her, but now I'm wondering how much I know about _her_.

"I'll be out of your hair in no time," she replied casually.

"I'm not worried about that. I'm asking…you know, if you need help, or if there's something I can do, or…"

"Mr. Strathmore," she said admonishingly. "You gave me a huge raise. You're letting me stay here free of charge. You're already doing way more than any normal boss would do."

"That's because he's not normal."

I looked up to see my wife crossing the room, and damn if just the sight of her and the sound of her smartass reply doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.

Jessica smiled, and then busied herself while I gave Mary a proper hello, and then Mary flopped into the nearest chair and sighed heavily.

"Long day?" I asked her, heading for the mini bar set up in the far corner, for just such purposes.

"We found his brother," she said, causing me to stop in my tracks.

"Rocco's?" I asked needlessly. Of course that's who she's talking about.

"You know, I can go…" Jessica began, but Mary waved her off.

"You're curious, too. You'd have to be," she reasoned. "Have a drink with us. It's not like you have to drive home. I'm sure you can manage to work an elevator after one drink."

Jessica looked at me apprehensively, and once again, I found myself feeling bad, like she expects me to say no, because…well, because I'm her boss. But _shouldn't_ I say no, since I'm her boss? God, I can't figure out boundaries lately. I mean, seriously…Mike and Carolyn work for Ross, and they're friends. Same with Bobby and Alex. Connie is friends with Mike. Why should I shut someone out simply because they're under my employ?

"Oh my God, John," Mary said as she stood up and walked over to me. "You're over thinking absolutely everything. Fix the girl a drink. Fix all of us a drink. And then I'll tell you where we are."

Mary grabbed me by my tie and then kissed me hard. Not overly inappropriately or anything, just purposefully. Like she's already come to the conclusion that I'm working around to - that it doesn't hurt to make friends with colleagues.

She pulled back and pointed at the mini bar, and then went back to her chair, starting up an easy conversation with Jessica.

"So, are you dating anyone?" Mary asked her. I wanted to protest, but I held back.

"No, not since Jacob. That ended about six months ago."

"Jacob?" I questioned.

She smiled at me and said, "I try to keep my personal life out of the office."

"Sure," I agreed, still out of my element with this conversation. "And you don't have to answer Mary's questions. She's nosy."

Mary made some kind of snorting sound and then rolled her eyes at me before turning back to Jessica, who said, "I don't mind. I'm just saying, that's kind of the way things have always been. Rocco kept his private life private, too, so you know, the fact that you don't know things about him doesn't mean…well, it doesn't mean anything."

I glanced back to find Mary smiling at me victoriously. She's been saying the same thing for three weeks now, and it makes me suspicious that maybe she and Jessica have been conspiring to make this conversation happen.

"Told you so," Mary said, unable to help herself.

It was my turn to roll my eyes, and then I carried three glasses over to the where Mary was sitting, and Jessica was near her, leaning against a cabinet.

"Anyway," Mary continued, looking back at Jessica. "You should come out with us sometime. We might be old, but a lot of our friends are closer to your age, and since you're new to the city…"

"You're not old. But yeah, I'd like that. Thanks."

We all took a moment to sip some bourbon, and then Mary said, "So…the brother. Turns out he's living in Honduras."

"Doing what?" I asked.

"He went down on a mission two years ago, and decided to stay. Apparently he's happy living off the grid. He kept his place in Des Moines, but as far as we can tell, he hasn't been back. I sent the locals over to check it out, to talk to the neighbors to see if anyone's seen Rocco, but it looks like it's a big dead end. Well, mostly."

"Mostly?" I asked, suddenly feeling energized because I know that expression on Mary's face, and it doesn't mean dead end.

"While searching Antonio DiCarlo's place in Des Moines, the LEO's found information on a few properties willed to him by their parents."

"Willed to just Antonio? Not Rocco?" Jessica asked, giving voice to my same question.

"Right. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because of Rocco's mental disorder. They probably felt more comfortable entrusting the assets to Antonio, but yeah, so there's a place in Florida, one in Texas, and one in New York."

"New York?"

"We haven't found him," she assured me quickly. "But he's definitely been there, so we have people sitting on it."

"And?" I asked, knowing there had to be an _and_.

"And you can stop feeling guilty about how you may or may not have treated him," she told me. "Because all of the big brains who've been helping us on this thing are apparently right. It's not about you. It's about me. It seems like for some strange reason, he thinks he's in love with me."

"What?" I asked in surprise, not having come close to expecting this latest development.

"I know, shocking, right? How someone could fall in love with me?" she said wryly.

"I don't mean that," I corrected quickly. "It's just…what'd you find?"

"Pictures. A _lot_ of pictures. Photo-shopped, of me and him."

"Pictures like…"

"Not dirty pictures," she clarified.

"He saw that you were happy," Jessica said to me.

"That's what I think," Mary agreed. "And we were using him less during the off hours, so maybe he realized that he's fifty-five years old and alone."

I nodded thoughtfully, no longer feeling quite so betrayed _or_ responsible, but just feeling sad for him. And I know, he threatened to have me killed and he's lusting after my wife, but as I looked at Mary, I decided that I can't really blame him. For the lust part, anyway.

We spent a few more minutes discussing Rocco, and then Jessica thanked us for the drink and said she was heading down to her room, leaving me and Mary alone in my new office.

"I like her," Mary said, tugging me down into the chair with her.

"I can tell. You invited her out with everyone?"

"Sure, why not? Besides, Jeremy's in a slump lately."

"Are you kidding me? You want to fix her up with Jeremy? He's a kid!"

"He's almost twenty. She's only twenty-six. You want to start talking age differences, my adorable almost fifty year old husband?" she asked, smiling sweetly as she began loosening my tie.

"I want to know when you turned into a matchmaker. And why you suddenly want to make friends with my secretary."

"Because she's more than a secretary and you know it. And you know, maybe I've decided I _like_ having friends."

"Huh," I responded dubiously, and then because I'm feeling marginally better than I've felt in weeks, and since Mary's done with my tie and is now unbuttoning my shirt, I teased, "She's pretty. You aren't worried about me spending so much time with her?"

"She's worked for you for ten years. If you wanted her, I imagine you'd have her by now," she replied assertively, but then her fingers faltered and she looked up at me with a serious expression as she asked, "Wait, you haven't…"

"No," I assured her quickly.

"Good. I mean, I _do_ like her, but damn, I think I'd have to fire her," she said, but the smile was back on her face, and her hands slid underneath my shirt briefly before moving down to my belt buckle.

"Nice to know you're not the jealous type," I said playfully.

She brought her eyes up to mine again, and said, "I don't need to be jealous. I trust you to tell me, if you decide you don't want me anymore."

A mixed statement. That's the thing about Mary. She exudes confidence, and yet I know she's still a little baffled by how much I love her because she doesn't think she's good enough.

"I'll want you forever, Mary. Even as I'm drawing in my dying breath."

She smiled fully and then laid a kiss on me that had me forgetting completely about Rocco, and Jessica, and absolutely everything else.

An hour later, as we redressed each other, getting ready to head down to the bar to meet up with Bobby and Alex, I _did_ let Rocco slip into my mind again.

How can I blame him for falling in love with Mary? And how can I fault him for the fantasies he created in his mind, when he's struggling with illness?

I can't.

But I _do_ want to find him and get him some help.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Alex**_

* * *

 _ **A/N : On a side note, I recently uploaded In From the Cold to Inkitt dot com Fanfiction contest - even if you've already read it, please go over and leave me some love! Voting is fan-based, and the LOCI community seems to be getting smaller and smaller these days...Thanks to Peter T. for the suggestion!**_


	29. Chapter 29

**Alex POV**

* * *

I've been having flashbacks like crazy, all day.

Ever since our victim turned out to be a young Polish girl with a familiar tattoo.

Ashley Moser and her aggressive sexual advances…Sherman and his smarmy confidence…Jocelyn and her attempt to burn up my husband…

 _"So no ID?"_ Bobby asked the officer on-scene when we got to Coney Island Creek Park.

 _"No, sir, or at least not that we've found yet,"_ was the response. The area was cordoned off, and the medical examiner - not Liz - was crouched over the body. " _But we're still searching the area, in case anything else washed up."_

The girl was face down on the sand, her clothes plastered against her body. Short skirt, silk blouse, and a jacket that was more off than on.

 _"Detectives Goren,"_ the ME's assistant greeted grimly. " _Your business card was in the jacket pocket,"_

He nodded at Bobby as he said it, indicating it was his card rather than mine, and then he held out an evidence bag with the card.

 _"It's old,"_ I remarked with surprise as I looked at it with Bobby. He caught my eye, and nodded slowly, puzzling over the new information because who keeps a card for more than five months? I mean, sure, keep it at home maybe. But loose in her jacket pocket?

See, the phone number on the card was from before the case with Moran and the dead stripper.

Bobby changed his number after that, when we started working the private business with Mike and Carolyn. We both did. And this card still shows the old number.

Bobby suddenly moved in next to the ME, obviously wanting a closer look at the girl.

 _"What is it?"_ I asked as I eased over next to him.

 _"Does she look Eastern European to you?"_ he questioned quietly, his gloved hand gently tilting her face towards us.

 _"You don't think…"_

Because see, at that point, we had no idea what this case was all about.

But after he said that, we checked for the tattoo, and there it was, on her hip.

Powodzania.

" _What the hell is that?"_ the ME asked.

 _"It means good luck,"_ Bobby murmured.

 _"Talk about ironic,"_ the doctor remarked, bringing about a look of rebuke from both me and Bobby, and then he finally looked slightly remorseful for making light. _"I'll get her on the table first thing in the morning."_

 _"Why not tonight?_ " I questioned.

 _"Detective, it's after midnight."_

 _"And…"_

 _"And I've been on since noon."_

 _"Yeah, so?"_

He sighed heavily, shaking his head at me as he got to his feet, and then he said, " _First thing in the morning. You want it sooner than that, call your buddy Rodgers."_

 _"I'm tempted,"_ Bobby said under his breath as the doctor walked away.

I was, too, but Liz is most likely at the hospital with Cecilia, and I'm not going to call her away from that.

Bobby started to say something, but then he leaned down to sniff the girl, surely hoping for a whiff of perfume, as with the previous girls, but he just shook his head.

 _"A smell you can't detect?"_

" _Washed away, I guess. Hey, Alex, does this look like a needle mark to you?"_

I focused on the spot just behind the girl's ear, where Bobby was pointing.

 _"Potassium?"_

 _"That'd be my guess."_

 _"What's going on here, Bobby? We cleaned house almost six months ago. Everyone is either dead or in prison."_

 _"Apparently not."_

The idea that someone else was still out there, forcing young girls into prostitution, holding their immigration status over their heads made _me_ want to go over someone's head, too.

Like, a certain lazy ME.

So I called Ross and asked him to put in a call to the chief ME.

An hour later, Bobby and I were in the morgue watching as a surly Dr. Michaels performed the autopsy on our girl.

 _"Prints hit,"_ he grumbled as he moved over to look at the beeping computer screen. _"Paulina Trinoskey."_

 _"She has a record?"_ I asked, stepping closer to see the computer.

 _"You look. I'm still working on her,"_ he griped, turning back towards the table.

 _"Bobby, she's only nineteen,_ " I said as I looked over the arrest report. _"She was picked up last fall for prostitution. She did two months."_

 _"So she was behind bars while we were investigating,"_ he mused. _"I wonder why her name never came up. Hey, did she get out before Jocelyn went in?"_

I hit a few more keys, looking for the information, and after a moment, I had what we were looking for.

 _"No, but fairly soon after. And she wasn't in the same facility as Jocelyn. Why, what are you thinking?"_

 _"I don't know yet,_ " he admitted.

We spent another hour at the morgue, and then went home to shower and change before heading into work for the day.

 _"We need to go have a chat with Jocelyn,"_ I said to Bobby. _"She has to be behind this."_

 _"Unless we missed someone."_

 _"We didn't."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Aren't you?"_ I replied, finally looking up across the desks to find him staring back at me, and I realized he was pushing me just to get me to look at him. He gave me a half smile, and I suddenly found myself able to breathe a little easier, and I realized how extremely tense I'd been just moments before, thinking about this case.

 _"Whoever's behind it, we'll figure it out,"_ he said confidently, and I love his conviction. I also love how he knew I was getting sucked in. And I love how just a look from him can put me back on even ground. And of course, I love his eyes. And the three-day old beard. And his smile.

And yeah, I'm way off topic now, but it was a good mind break, so whatever.

 _"They're working on Flowers,"_ he said in a conspiratorial tone, tipping his head towards Lupo and Bernard.

 _"Of course they are,"_ I agreed, smiling back at him. _"Wouldn't you, if it were me?"_

 _"You have to ask? I'd like to be working on it, with it being her, so you know damn well if it were you, I wouldn't be sleeping or eating or doing anything but finding that asshole."_

 _"Which is exactly what Bernard is doing. Which is why she asked him to stop,"_ I reminded him.

 _"Uh huh. Looks like it's working about as well on him as it would on me."_

As he spoke, the two men stood up, so I put my head down in order to avoid getting caught staring, but Bobby apparently didn't mind.

 _"Lead?"_ he asked them quietly.

They told us where they were going, and we offered our two cents, and then Bernard asked about our case, and suddenly my mood was dour again.

 _"So either we missed one of the players, or she's working on an elaborate scheme to convince the court of her innocence,"_ I explained after we gave them the Cliff notes.

 _"You'll get 'em,"_ Lupo said firmly, and then he and his partner left.

 _"Yes, we will,"_ Bobby said to me. " _And let's start with that chat with Jocelyn."_

It took some time to make the arrangements, because we wanted to go through Mike Cutter due to the pending appeal, and she had to have _her_ lawyer present, so it was after noon by the time we sat down in a visiting room at Rikers.

 _"You look better than the last time I saw you,"_ Jocelyn said smugly, looking at Bobby. _"Doubled over, howling in pain."_

Just like that, my buttons were pushed, because I can remember so clearly the terror I felt at having to leave Bobby in that burning house so that I could chase down Jocelyn. Of course, at the time, I didn't know she'd beaten him with a baseball bat, and that's probably a good thing, because I might have had to shoot her.

" _And you look much, much worse_ ," I spoke up, calling her attention to me. " _I see you aren't a natural blonde. The mouse brown suits you better."_

 _"Mr. Cutter, did you call this meeting so my client could be subjected to taunting by this detective?"_ her lawyer whined.

" _We're here to talk about what your client's been up to,"_ Cutter replied.

" _I'm in prison,"_ Jocelyn stated flatly. " _What the hell do you think I've been doing?"_

 _"Arranging a hit to help ensure your innocence,"_ Bobby said.

We'd debated telling her about it right off, or trying to lead her to it, but in the end, we decided on the shock factor, to try to read her reaction to the news.

Laughter wasn't what either of us expected.

 _"A hit? On who? Honey, if I were going to pull off something like that, it'd probably be on you for killing my little girl."_

 _"That's a hypothetical,"_ her lawyer said quickly.

" _Oh, you mean your client isn't actually threatening the life of a detective?"_ Cutter said, pouncing on the statement to gain some leverage. " _Because it sure as hell sounded like it. I'm betting the judge will love that, when it comes up during the appeal."_

 _"It wasn't a legitimate threat, and you know it,"_ was the sharp reply, and then the two lawyers went at it heatedly for several minutes, discussing the veracity of the appeal, so Bobby and I stood back for a moment, and I mumbled under my breath, " _I like it better when we talk to them before the lawyers get involved."_

 _"She's enjoying this,"_ he commented, nodding his head towards Jocelyn. I glanced over at her and saw her sitting back in the chair, smiling slightly as she watched the conversation unfolding in front of her.

 _"She has her mouthpiece doing her bidding,"_ I said.

 _"Just like Ashley. And Sherman,"_ he said. " _Tommy."_

 _"But not Elka,"_ I pointed out, and Bobby brought his gaze to mine, smiling as he realized where I was going. " _And I'm betting she doesn't have a thousand dollar an hour attorney."_

 _"Uh huh. And maybe she knows who's behind Jocelyn's latest move."_

We spent a few more minutes in the visiting room, after the lawyers settled down, and we asked a couple more questions of Jocelyn, but we weren't any closer to having our answer by the time we left.

" _Sorry about that,_ " Cutter said as we left the room.

 _"It's fine. It gave us a chance to observe her,_ " Bobby replied.

 _"And?"_

 _"She's involved,"_ we confirmed simultaneously.

He flashed us a smile, and said, " _Good. Prove it before the court date, and her appeal will be moot."_

 _"Anything we can do to ease your trial schedule, Counselor,"_ I teased. " _But now we want to talk with Elka. Can we do that? "_

 _"Yeah, um…just me and Alex?"_ Bobby added. " _No offense."_

 _"None taken,"_ Cutter said easily. " _I'll make it happen."_

Since Elka doesn't have an appeal pending, we were able to have her brought down for a chat, without any lawyers.

To say she was unhappy to see us would be a gross understatement, but she _did_ talk. Sort of.

 _"No one would help Jocelyn. If some girl turned up dead from a potassium injection, it's just a coincidence."_

 _"Some young Polish girl with a tattoo?"_ I pressed. _"Come on, Elka…"_

 _"Come on, what? You want me to help you keep Jocelyn locked up? You forget you put me here, too?"_

 _"Yeah, and Jocelyn has an appeal pending. What about you? You didn't do half of what she did on the outside, but you'll be behind bars for a long time, and she could get out as early as next month."_

 _"Fine. Whatever."_

 _"You don't care that she might get away with what she did? She set you up to take the fall, Elka. It could've all been pinned on you, if she'd gotten her way. And now you're cool with it if she walks while you rot in prison?"_

 _"Look, I don't know what to tell you. Everyone I know from before is either dead or here, okay? She's a bitch, but she's not a witch, you know what I'm saying? She can't pull no magic shit like offing some little tramp while she's locked up here."_

Bobby moved closer to her then, leaning down so that he was looking at her, eye to eye.

 _"Some little tramp?"_ he questioned. " _We didn't say she was a prostitute."_

 _"No, but I assumed, since you said Jocelyn did it,"_ she said, her voice sounding a little shaky before she found her rhythm again. _"But I'm just saying you're wrong."_

 _"Or she knew we'd come talk to you, so she got to you first. What's she giving you, Elka? Money for the prison canteen? Protection? What?"_

 _"Screw you, I'm done. CO!"_ she called out, standing up to wait by the door.

We waited until she was gone, and then I looked at Bobby and said, " _It's money_."

 _"Uh huh_ ," he agreed, smiling like he does when we separately reach the same conclusion.

Or at least he does now that we're together. I think he used to try to hide it before, back in the old days, because sometimes it would come out and sometimes it wouldn't.

Ever since last September, it's pretty much there all the time now. I love that.

And you know, that's been the good thing about my day being flooded with memories.

This case has taken me back to our wedding day, since we got married as soon as it was over.

The sight of Bobby standing in the park…

I sighed heavily as I followed Bobby back to our SUV.

 _"What's wrong?"_ he asked me.

 _"Nothing. This case just has me going down memory lane."_

 _"Me, too,"_ he said, and then he caught me off guard by pulling me into his arms and dancing a few steps as he said, " _Our wedding dance in the living room. I was a little stiff that day, but I'm not now."_

And I know. He was being romantic. But I couldn't help it, I had to laugh at his unintentional double entendre.

" _Six months in, and I don't do it for you anymore, huh?"_ I asked playfully, still enjoying our impromptu dance. I hope like hell the prison parking lot security cameras aren't pointed in our direction, and then I decided, so what if they are?

 _"You know that's not true,"_ he said, his voice a low growl, his lips near my ear. " _Want me to show you? Right here, right now?"_

He was only kidding, I know, but damn it was tempting. The thought of what we might be able to accomplish in the backseat of our SUV, of what we _have_ accomplished in there on a few occasions.

 _"I would love that,"_ I responded, letting my eyes fall closed as he worked his lips on my neck. " _But we're working. And we're most likely on camera."_

 _"So?"_ he teased, but then he took a step back from me, looking mischievous and so damn sexy.

God, I love him.

 _"How about we go get some lunch instead?"_

 _"Wow, we have been married a long time, huh?_ " he joked. _"You're picking food over sex?"_

 _"No, I'm picking sex at home during our lunch hour instead of in the department SUV on camera. We might have careers a little longer, doing it my way."_

He grinned and then kissed me once, with promise, and then I went around to the driver's side and got in the truck.

It was almost two hours later when we got back to the office.

And yeah, so we took a long lunch, but we've basically been working since last night, so I'm not going to feel bad about it.

We spent the afternoon combing through the Rikers' visitor log, as well as Jocelyn's call log and correspondence. We went through Elka's, too.

"And you came up empty?"

That was Mary's question, because now it's Monday night and we're in the bar at the Millennium with her and John, and we just brought them up to speed on our investigation. They already filled us in on the latest with Rocco.

"It's her. We both know it, and she knows we know it, but I don't know how she made it happen."

"And we don't know how she paid off Elka to keep her quiet," Bobby added.

"The bartering system in prison might be harder to pin down," Mary said. "But the contact with the outside world…"

"It's her lawyer," John spoke up suddenly.

After three weeks of him being in a funk, it's nice to see him mostly back to normal. I'll give Mary all the credit for that, because she's been working other cases and yet still relentless in her search for Rocco, and more importantly, in her search for an explanation of _why_ Rocco did what he did. I can imagine that him being in love with Mary is something John can perfectly understand.

"You think he's muling for her?" Bobby asked.

"God, another dirty lawyer? I don't think I can handle it," I said in disgust.

"Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it," John reasoned.

"Okay. Maybe," I said after a thoughtful moment. "So now we have to figure out who did it."

"Hey, isn't that what you guys are supposed to do anyway?" Mary joked. "You know, solve homicides?"

"No, what gave you that idea?" I teased back, and then it was game on between us, trading barbs and laughing, and then Bobby and John joined in, and it was exactly what I needed after the day.

Well, aside from what I got at lunch, that is.

But then it suddenly hit me what was missing.

"Hey, aren't Mike and Carolyn back yet?" I asked.

"I haven't heard from them," John admitted.

"They took your chopper, right?" Bobby confirmed, as we all pulled out our phones, each of us checking to see if we'd missed anything.

"He said they hoped to be back by six," John said.

It's eight-thirty.

"The last text I have is from around noon," Mary said.

"Me, too," Bobby added.

I didn't even have that, and the good mood from moments ago was completely gone because it's not like Mike not to check in, especially when he's on a road trip.

"Maybe they caught up with O'Connor and lost track of time," John suggested, but I can tell he's concerned, too.

We've all been in this business too long, and seen too much. Okay, so maybe John hasn't, but he's been around us long enough to know.

"I'm calling," I said as I dialed Carolyn's number.

It went to straight to voice mail.

So did Mike's.

That never happens, and I don't like it one bit.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jennifer**_


	30. Chapter 30

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," I responded, without looking back at my partner.

We're currently walking across the tarmac at Teterboro, meeting up with another pair of agents who have a witness in tow, someone planning to testify for the United States Attorney this week.

We don't have to take over primary protection, but simply escort the group of three to an unnamed hotel and get them set up, and then we have the day shift for watching the hotel. Daniels and McInnis will take over for us at five, and I can already tell it's going to be a long day.

Because I don't want to tell Mary what's going on with me.

I haven't told anyone but Lauren, and I wasn't even going to tell her, but I had to say something.

Because I'm scared to death.

 _"Get a test,"_ she said reasonably after I confessed my worry, yesterday morning during our run.

 _"Yeah, I know that, but then what if…God, Lauren, we've been together barely more than a month. Even if I wanted kids, which I'm not sure I do, but even if I did, it's not the time."_

 _"It is if it is,"_ she said. " _What does Mike say?"_

 _"Are you kidding me? You think I told him? I'm freaking out. I mean, completely freaking out. How do you think he'll feel?"_

 _"I have no idea,"_ she admitted. _"And I'm not sure you do either, so I think you have to tell him."_

 _"But what's the point, if I'm not? I should take the test first, right?"_

It made sense to me. Why upset the apple cart for no reason? Although at five days late, I think that apple cart isn't just turned over, it's shattered into pieces, and maybe that's what's killing me. I want to enjoy the _now_. I mean, we're happy. We just exchanged _I love yous_. I spend almost all of my free time with him. And now this…

 _"No, you should tell him about your concern,"_ she insisted.

 _"Maybe,"_ I deflected.

 _"And buy a test,"_ she added.

 _"Yeah, I will."_

 _"You can't keep procrastinating."_

 _"No kidding,"_ I said smartly. _"A few more months, and I can't button my jeans, I guess I'll have my answer."_

 _"Jennifer, it might not be anything. Maybe you're just late."_

 _"I'm never late. And I don't feel like it's coming, you know?"_

And then I felt like a complete ass because she doesn't have that experience anymore. Not for the past ten years. And she won't ever have the anxiety over a possible pregnancy because she can't get pregnant.

 _"Shit, I'm sorry,"_ I said sincerely. _"I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't mean…"_

 _"It's okay,"_ she assured me.

 _"Yeah, but still…I suck as a friend."_

That made her laugh, even though I was being serious, and then she started ticking off the list of things that might be responsible for my tardy monthly friend, things other than having a bun in the oven.

 _"I do have some experience with it,"_ she concluded.

 _"You do?"_

 _"In college. The same month I found out my boyfriend had cheated on me and gotten his ex pregnant, I was eight days late. You want to talk about a freak out."_

 _"But you weren't…"_

 _"No. I guess it was stress, I don't know."_

 _"Huh,"_ I mused. And then I had to ask. _"So, do you wish…I mean, knowing what you know now…"_

 _"That I would've had one then, or at some other point when I still could?"_ she finished for me, and I was relieved to see she wasn't upset by my question.

 _"Yeah."_

 _"No. If I were to have a baby, I'd want it to be with someone I love. And I used to think maybe I was in love a time or two, but no one's ever come close to Bernard."_

I suppose that's something. I do love Mike.

But it's been a month. And I'm only twenty-eight. And…

 _"Get a test,"_ she said again, flashing me a smile as we finally slowed to a walk.

But I didn't get one yesterday.

I was still in denial.

Instead, I stopped on my way to the office this morning.

And I bought four.

And then I texted Mike and told him that I was going home tonight, instead of to his place, but only because I needed to do laundry and pay some bills, and things like that.

His response was one of understanding, so I figure I'll go home, and take my tests, and then I'll either drink a bottle of wine all by myself, or I'll dissolve into tears and try to figure out why my birth control pills hate me.

But first I have to get through my day. And get past my inquisitive partner.

"Nothing?" she said. "Huh. Okay. You know, that's funny, Austin, because I thought we were friends."

"What? We are," I insisted.

"So then why are you keeping stuff from me?"

I sighed and wished desperately that the other agents had arrived, but they haven't, so we're standing on an empty tarmac with nothing to do but wait for the plane to show up.

"I…can't talk about it yet," I said at last. "But I will, I promise. Just not today."

"Everything's okay with you and Mike?"

"Yeah, it's great."

"So I don't need to kick his ass?"

 _Only because he might have freakishly powerful swimmers,_ I thought, but then I said, "No, he's good. We're good. It's all good."

At that moment, I finally got my wish because the plane came into view, and made its landing, and we were suddenly busy for the next couple of hours.

By the time we found ourselves sitting in the car outside the hotel, our focus was on Rocco. Mary got the call from Des Moines, in regards to the brother, and we learned about the house in Yonkers, so then we called in McInnis and Daniels to show up early, and she and I took a drive to check out the house.

"He's been here," she commented as we looked through the main rooms.

"Holy crap," I muttered when I saw the mirror in one of the bedrooms. It was covered in pictures of Mary. None showed John, but some had Rocco's image superimposed into the photo, and the whole thing was like a shrine. "He has a thing for you."

"Huh," she responded, which isn't exactly how I would've reacted because it was really kind of creepy, but then she explained by saying, "It's better than John thinking it was about him, and how he treated Rocco. This, with him having a crush on me…it'll make sense to him. It'll make things easier on him. And hopefully it means Rocco doesn't really want to hurt anyone. That's why he sent that last email, encouraging me to get away from John."

"He's still sick, Mary. He could still be violent, especially if he has delusions about you."

"Yeah, but we'll keep that to ourselves, okay? I need John back on his game, and I think this latest revelation will accomplish that. In the meantime, you and I will keep looking for Rocco."

"And you'll keep your guard up," I reminded her.

"When have you known me not to have my guard up?" she replied smartly, and then she grinned at me, making me smile back, and then she asked, "So are you ready to tell me yet?"

"You're relentless," I accused without heat. "Tomorrow, okay? I'll tell you tomorrow."

By then, I'll know one way or the other.

We finished our search of Rocco's parents' home, and then we made arrangements to have a couple of plain clothes sit on the house, in case Rocco came back

After that, she drove me back to the office, and I got into my own car and headed for home, and the drugstore bag in the front seat seemed to mock me the whole way.

In fact, when my phone rang and I saw that it was Mike, I grabbed the bag and threw it in the back seat before answering.

I know. I'm certifiable.

"I wanted to see if you changed your mind about coming to my place," he asked when I answered.

 _Yes_ , I thought with vehemence. All I want to do is be with him.

Instead I said, "Not tonight. I'm sorry, I just…I need to get some things done. I've been ignoring real life."

"We can do real life together," he posed, and damn if his deep, soft voice doesn't make me long for things I never thought I'd want.

Like marriage and forever. Like doing real life together, like he's suggesting.

Except this time my real life includes peeing on a stick, and that thought really ticks me off.

Which means I took it out on him, because sometimes I'm just a bitch.

"It's one night, Mike. I think you'll live. Besides, sorting through my dirty clothes isn't anyone's idea of fun, and you don't have to pretend like we need to spend every second together, okay? I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

"You'll…catch up with me? Like I'm an obligation?"

I sighed heavily, knowing how I sound and yet unable to stop myself.

"I'm doing you a favor, okay? Take a break from me. Obviously I'm not in the right mood for company anyway."

And then I just hung up.

I know, I'm a terrible person.

But by this point, I was parked in front of my building, and it's like I can hear that bag in the back seat, breathing and laughing and taunting, and I couldn't think about anything but going in and facing the music.

So I pushed Mike from my mind, and I went inside.

To say I was preoccupied as I set my gun on the side table, along with my badge and keys and phone, would be a complete underestimation. Obsessed would be closer to the truth.

I ignored the fact that I haven't been home in days.

Ignored the too quiet apartment.

Ignored the light on in the bedroom, the one I don't remember leaving on.

And instead, I went straight into the bathroom, opened the boxes, and peed on all four sticks.

Then I set them on the counter, intent on pacing the perimeter of my apartment for the five minute waiting period, but when I turned the corner into the hall, I came face to face with an intruder.

And not just any intruder.

Bill Flowers.

I was so surprised that I couldn't even scream as he grinned and put his hand around my throat, choking me as he shoved me into the wall hard, so that my head thumped against the sheetrock, and then he loosened his hold and spun me around, so that my back was to him, and then he pushed me against the wall again as he plastered himself against me.

I don't know where the knife came from, but suddenly it was at my neck, digging into the sensitive flesh and making me feel it with every breath.

"You're Jennifer," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "The running buddy. I've been here for two days. I wasn't sure you were ever going to come back. And to think I almost quit on you."

"You're a dead man," I managed to say, although it's crap and we both know it.

"If only I had a nickel for every time someone's said that to me, and yet here I am, still very much alive."

"For now," I insisted, but my voice is shaky and my brain is still playing catch up.

"I know, I'm blowing your mind, right? You never expected me to show up here. But I figure I can use you as bait, since I haven't been able to get to her. I mean, she's always got somebody with her, either you or her partner or her husband. And what's up with that, anyway? How'd a guy like that get a woman like her? I have a theory about that, if you want to hear it. It's some real psychobabble bullshit about how she picked someone completely opposite from me. You think it's because she still wants me that much? That it hurts her to think about me?"

"Fuck you."

"Oh, honey, trust me...that's the plan."

With one hand still holding the knife at my throat, he moved his other hand between me and the wall, his fingers squeezing my breast, and I was instantly flooded with panic at the realization that I'm temporarily at his mercy.

 _And what if there's a plus sign on those tests in the bathroom_ , I wondered suddenly, and then that idea scared me even more because it wouldn't be just about me anymore. There could be a baby involved. _Mike's and my baby_. And how can I protect it from this psycho when it doesn't seem like I can even protect myself?

Tears burned my eyes as I forced myself to relax, to think rationally in order to escape my situation, but it wasn't easy to do as he continued his aggressive groping, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath as he leaned in to kiss the side of my neck.

"I'll make it good for you, don't worry," he growled.

"It'll be good for me? That's what you think? I'd say you better hope like hell it's good for _you_ because this is gonna be the last thing you ever do."

I struggled against him, hoping to jar the knife loose so that I at least had a fighting chance, but he held fast.

"You're feisty, like Lauren. I like that," he said. "This is going to be a lot of fun."

He tightened his hold on me, pulling me more firmly back against him, with the knife sharp against my skin, and I could feel the hardness of him against me, and his free hand tugged at my blouse, ripping it open, and it felt like the more I resisted, the tighter he held me, and I desperately tried to block out the fear so that I could think about how to get out of this mess.

I told Mike I wanted to be alone.

No one else knows I'm here.

My gun is ten feet away on the table, and this jerkoff has me outsized, not to mention the knife at my throat.

I'm totally screwed.

But the least I can do is protect Lauren.

"If you think you can scare me into calling Lauren, then the joke's on you, asshole," I said bravely. "I don't care what you do to me, there's no way in hell I'm going to help you get to her."

"You don't have to," he said, leaning around to smile broadly at me, sending a creepy shiver down my spine. "While you were in the bathroom, I used your phone to text her. She'll be here any minute, and that's when the real party starts."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Logan**_


	31. Chapter 31

**Logan POV**

* * *

As many times as it's happened, the one thing I'm still not used to is having a gun pointed at my head.

It pretty much sucks.

Especially when my wife is standing next to me.

The mildly amusing aspect of this scenario is that when given the choice between aiming at me or Carolyn, the bad guys almost always go with me. Something to do with my size, I suppose. Or my gender. Either way, it's a bad decision on their part because Carolyn's much quicker on the draw than me.

So standing in the lobby of a club in South Boston, a known hangout of Giovanni Pirelli, having the bouncer aiming his Glock 21 at my forehead isn't quite as grave as it _could_ be.

Because within a second, Carolyn's piece was pointing right back at the bouncer.

"Put it down," she said, using that scary voice she saves for just such situations.

The guy actually smirked at her, like he was entertained by the whole thing.

"Shoot him if you want," she offered casually. "But if you ever want to use that pencil dick of yours again, you should really put the gun down."

Her aim purposefully shifted to the guy's crotch, and that's when his smile faltered. Funny how he's more scared of her shooting him in the junk than in the chest.

"You put yours down, too," he responded, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

"I will," she promised. "You first."

"No, how about _you_ first."

Now that was unexpected, because it didn't come from the bouncer, but from one of the three new men on the scene, all of whom just came up behind the guy, all of whom have matching Glock 21s, and all of whom look bigger than the first mope.

"Cops aren't allowed in here," another of them said.

"We're not cops. We're private investigators," I said, which is a lie and yet it isn't, since we're both.

"No dicks, either," the first guy said.

"Looks like you're breaking your own rule on that one," Carolyn said. "Because I'm standing here looking at four dicks right now."

The two who were pointing at me, shifted their weapons to Carolyn so now all four of them are aimed at her, and she's still honed in on the first guy's junk, and then a fifth guy joins the fray and says, "I think this bitch needs to learn to keep her mouth shut."

"And I think you don't know who you're fucking with."

Another surprise. Voices from behind us, and there's no mistaking the accent.

I should've known O'Connor would have his men keeping an eye out for us, once I told him we were on the way. I didn't call him for back-up, but rather for intel, and the offer to meet for a quick drink before going back to the city. I honestly didn't anticipate needing back up, considering we haven't even asked any questions yet.

I guess O'Connor knows these thugs better than I do.

"Mind your business, Mick," the newest of the men across from us said, and I sidestepped a little so that I could look behind me, and saw only two guys but four guns, both of them with a gun in each hand, and Carolyn still has hers out, so I finally drew mine, now that I could do so without getting a bullet in my brain, and it's suddenly six guns to five in this tiny little lobby with concrete walls. I hope like hell no one starts shooting.

"Tis my business, when you're threatening O'Connor blood."

That remark had all five men lowering their weapons.

"We're not trying to start anything," I assured them, amazed by the juice my uncle has in this town. "We just want to talk to Giovanni Pirelli. I'm assuming he's here, since you're dead set on keeping us out."

"He's here," one confirmed. "But he don't have nothing to say to you."

"Tell him it's Duncan O'Connor's grandson," one of my back-up stated. "And if you do it real quick like, we won't tell your boss you pulled a gun on him."

"Or that the little lass here had the drop on you," the other one added with a chuckle.

It only took three seconds for all five men to disappear inside the club.

"You've gotten soft, dealing with the likes of us, eh, Mike Logan?" one of them asked as he tucked one of his guns back into his waistband. "You can't count on all of us mob types having a conscience."

He was grinning from ear to ear, and I finally recognized him as one of the cousins from last month's visit.

"Soft, Ian?" I joked. "I had 'em right where I wanted 'em."

"Yeah, your lady did, maybe," the other one laughed, then he put away his guns and offered his hand to me. "I missed you on your last trip up. Tommy McKinney."

I shook his hand, still not used to the fact that strangers love me simply because of my heritage. It's an odd twist to my former life.

"Mike Logan," I said needlessly. "And my _lady_ , Carolyn Logan."

He shook her hand as well, and then we all went serious again as we heard footsteps approach.

"You can come on back," the original bouncer said as he entered. "But just you."

He nodded his head towards me, and I started towards him, but then Tommy spoke up and said, "Not happening. 'Tis all or nothing. And you really don't want it to be nothing."

For a wiry, little guy, he was great at playing the heavy, and it only took a moment's pause before the bouncer agreed, leading all four of us into the club, past a long bar, and over to a table in the back corner, where Carolyn and I sat down, face to face with Giovanni Pirelli.

Ian and Tommy remained standing, clearly on guard and watching our backs, and I have to admit that I'm grateful because this isn't the seediest place I've ever been in, but it's damn close.

And Pirelli's killed a lot of people.

I feel bad for Cecilia, knowing that this is her father. Not so long ago, I searched for mine and found a hero. She searched for hers and found the devil incarnate.

 _"I called him,"_ she admitted to us, earlier today when we went by the hospital. She looked like hell, the bruises and cuts from the night before showing up stark against her pale skin, but she was sitting up in the bed and there was a fire in her eyes.

 _"How did you get his number?"_ I asked, and then I looked at Carolyn when I heard her sigh and she was rolling her eyes. " _What?"_

 _"Mike, she's a hacker. How do you think she got his number?"_ she said in amusement.

 _"I don't know. Maybe 411, like the rest of us."_

 _"Actually, hardly anyone uses 411 anymore,"_ Mulder spoke up, not realizing I was being a smartass. " _Anyone listed there can be googled, and why take the time to make a call when you can just tap out the specs and get the goods, right?"_

 _"I think they know, Mulder,"_ Cecilia said with a small smile. _"Anyway, yeah, I got the number for his private cell, and I called him. I'm not sure what I expected him to say. I think I just wanted to find out if he was surprised, you know?"_

 _"And was he?"_

 _"No. Not about me specifically, but I mean, I told him my name and said_ _ **hi, I'm your daughter**_ _, just to get it right out there, and he said,_ _ **so what? That don't make you special."**_

 _"Cecilia,"_ Mulder began comfortingly, taking hold of her hand.

 _"It's okay,"_ she said quickly. _"It's not like I expected him to have any real interest. I guess I just wanted to hear his voice. And to know that he knows about me, you know?"_

I definitely know. Take all the wondering and guesswork out of it. I don't blame her one bit.

 _"Anyway,"_ she continued. " _He asked if I was calling to stake a claim on what's his. Like I would want his money or something."_

She broke off for a moment, shaking her head in disgust, and then she said, " _So I told him I didn't want anything of his, and then he asked why the hell I was calling. And honestly, after thirty seconds of conversation, I was asking myself the same thing, so I just hung up."_

Makes me wonder if he really does suspect her of wanting a piece of what's his. Maybe that's what prompted him to try to take her out.

"Gimme your phones," Pirelli said as soon as we were seated.

Carolyn and I looked at each other, neither of us making a move.

"Phones," he said again.

"Not happening," I responded.

"I ain't gonna steal your piece of shit cell phone. I just don't wanna wonder if you're recording this shit, got it?"

"I'll turn it off," I said, pulling out my phone and showing him as I powered down, and then I stuck it back in my pocket. Carolyn did the same, and then he seemed satisfied and a little more relaxed, so he waved over a waitress and ordered a round of beers.

Funny that he doesn't seem to care that we still have our weapons, but he was freaking out about the phones.

Me, I'm the other way around. I would've eventually come off the phone, but he's not getting my gun.

I guess he figures with all these lowlifes in the club, he's got us outgunned but we could still burn him with a voice recording of something incriminating.

"I want you to leave Cecilia Chambers alone," I said, once the drinks were served.

"Who the fuck is that?"

"She's your daughter."

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Well, so what? Doesn't mean I'm gonna do anything with her."

"Not _with_ her. _To_ her," Carolyn corrected purposefully.

"You accusing me of something?" he asked hotly, settling a leering gaze on Carolyn. "You ain't too bright, are you?"

I don't mind the insult because he's a moron and that's what they do, but I don't like the way he's looking at her, so I snapped my fingers to capture his attention as I said, "She's smarter than everyone else in this place combined, and she's a damn sight meaner and faster on the draw, too, so you're going to want to listen, dumb ass."

Since my goal was to have him focus on me instead of my wife, I'd say it worked brilliantly.

He slammed his glass down and shoved back his chair, standing up quickly and leaning across the table as he shouted, "No, you listen, you little shit. Being an O'Connor don't mean you can come in my bar and insult me, and it sure as hell don't mean you can tell me what to do."

"It means he can go anywhere he damn well likes," Ian spoke up from behind me, his voice gruff and menacing. "And he can warn you away from the people who mean something to him."

The stare off between Pirelli and Ian lasted a solid minute, and I was starting to worry that maybe by coming here, I've started a war between the Irish and the Italians, and then suddenly Pirelli backed down, sitting in his chair again as he shrugged dismissively.

"Hey, what do I care about the little bitch? She called _me_ , okay?"

"And then what?" I asked.

"And then…what?" he repeated, not catching my drift.

"What'd you do _after_ she called you?"

"I fucked your mother," he retorted with a grin. "And then I slept like a baby."

I ignored his dig, mostly because if my mother were alive it wouldn't be out of the realm and I couldn't care less. Instead, I glanced over at Carolyn, and that was all it took to know she was with me.

Pirelli's a great big piece of shit, but I don't think he has anything to do with what happened to Cecilia.

Oh sure, he'll lash out at her if he thinks she wants something from him, but right now, she's not a danger to him, and she's barely even a blip on his radar.

It's kind of what we thought before we got here, but we had to be sure.

Earlier, we went to talk with the guy whose car was stolen and used in the accident.

 _"This neighborhood is all wrong,"_ Carolyn said quietly after ringing the bell. _"It's too nice."_

 _"Uh huh,"_ I agreed. " _It'd be reported too quickly."_

Typically, when a car is stolen for use in another crime, it's plucked from a long-term lot or a seedy neighborhood, someplace where the owner either wouldn't notice for a while, or they might seek justice for himself rather than calling the cops.

 _"I called it in right away,"_ the old guy confirmed. " _You think I don't know when my own car's missing from the curb? I'm old, but I'm not that damn old."_

Which reinforced our point. But at the same time, we didn't catch the car before the other crime, probably since the doer stole from here and then drove to New York. So is that why they went for a better neighborhood and a nicer car? Because it would decrease the chances of personal retribution, in addition to figuring an APB for a stolen car in another state would be a fairly low priority?

 _"Although it's a noticeable car,_ " Carolyn said, after we finally extricated ourselves from the long-rambling monologue from the old man. " _It's how Cecilia was able to give such a good description. It's how we were able to find it so quickly."_

 _"So dumb criminal. Not mob,"_ I stated.

But now, as we're putting the stench of Pirelli's club behind us, we revisited the topic.

"Maybe dumb criminal _does_ mean mob," I said, and then I glanced at our two companions walking with us to the parking lot and I added ineloquently, "I mean, Italian mob. Not Irish. Just…Italian."

Tommy laughed, and Ian grinned at me, slapping me on the back as he said, "If you're expecting a thin skin from us, Mike Logan, you're peeking up the wrong skirt, to be sure."

"Is there such a thing?" Carolyn joked. "As peeking up the wrong skirt?"

"Anyone's but yours would be wrong," I responded, causing the two men to laugh harder, but I don't care. I put my arm around Carolyn, feeling good about our investigation so far, and I said, "But getting back to business, I don't think it's Pirelli."

"I agree," she said. "Which to me says we can all breathe just a little easier. He's the one I was most worried about."

"Me, too. Maybe it was just an accident after all. Maybe we've gotten paranoid, suspecting the worst."

"We'll dig a little more," she said sensibly.

"So it's back to the city, is it?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah, it's…" I began, looking at my watch, surprised to see the late hour. "Yeah, it's late. We should head back."

"One drink with your uncle before you go. And don't even think about saying no, or he'll be taking it out of our hides."

So we agreed to go for a drink, deciding to follow them in our rental to the pub, and then we could head for the heliport immediately after. Along the way, I remembered our phones were powered off, so I turned mine on, and then, since she's driving, I reached over into Carolyn's jacket pocket in search of hers.

"Are you finding what you're looking for?" she asked playfully.

"I think I'm getting close," I replied, leaning over so that my hand could reach into her opposite side jacket pocket. Of course, I didn't take a direct route there. In fact, I stalled out for quite a bit somewhere in the middle. I started kissing the side of her throat, along her jaw to her ear as my fingers worked to undo one button of her blouse, making just enough room for my hand to slide in.

"You're buzzing," she remarked, and I love how her voice sounds so soft and sultry and completely aroused. I love that I can do that to her.

"It's just whatever we missed while our phones were off," I reasoned, not letting up on my assault.

"Uh huh. And it's after nine. That means at least one of those is from Alex, wanting to know why the hell we aren't answering our phones."

I groaned loudly, reluctantly removing my hand and then going back to my side of the car.

"I didn't say _stop_ ," she remarked, sounding a little amused _and_ disappointed.

"Yeah, but you got all responsible on me. We know how Bobby and Alex worry, especially since we came here to deal with Pirelli."

"I know. Call them."

So I made a quick call to Alex, letting her and Bobby know that we're fine and bringing them up to speed on Pirelli.

"She was pissed," I said after hanging up.

"Worried," she corrected. "We would've been, too, if the situation were reversed."

"Yeah, but would they have blown the opportunity for a quickie, just to call us and ease our minds?" I posed with a grin.

"Yes," she said as she eased the car to a stop. "Besides, we're here anyway. But you can finish that on the way to the heliport."

"Finish what? Was I doing something?" I asked coyly.

"Not yet, but you were getting there."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jeremy**_


	32. Chapter 32

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

Aaron and I showed up at Mulder's place at five-thirty, both of us loaded down with stuff.

 _"Take this with you,"_ Liz told us earlier, when I stopped by the morgue to pick up A. She held out a shopping bag.

 _"What is it?_ " I asked as I took a peek inside. She grabbed the bag back from my hand and then turned to Aaron and said, " _Can you take it to Cecilia without looking through it?"_

Of course, Aaron smiled and said _yes ma'am_ , even though I knew damn well he was going to look as soon as we got to the car. Although I had a feeling Liz knew we'd look, too. She was just giving me a hard time.

 _"It's personal stuff,"_ she explained. _"Everything she had here in New York went down with her car, and I thought she might need…I don't know. Everything. Clothes. Pajamas. Underwear."_

 _"She's staying at Mulder's. I'm pretty sure she doesn't need underwear,"_ Aaron joked, but Liz gave him an expression of rebuke.

 _"She could've been killed last night,"_ she reminded us pointedly.

 _"Right. I know. I'm sorry,"_ he said immediately. She handed him the bag, and then she smirked and said, " _And I was thinking more along the lines of what she might want to put on when miscreants like you two show up at the apartment, rather than what she and Mulder do when they're alone."_

So we have the shopping bag, which we looked into simply because we were both curious about what type of underwear Liz would buy for Cecilia.

It was juvenile of us, I know, but we couldn't help ourselves.

 _"Wow,"_ Aaron said as he held up a pair of black lace panties. _"You think she picked this kind because this is what she thinks Cecilia wears? Or because it's what Liz wears?"_

 _"Put 'em back, I don't want to know,"_ I said, having changed my mind about being nosy.

" _Don't be a dick, J,"_ Aaron said affably, still digging through the bag.

 _"Don't be a perv, A,"_ I countered, reaching across the front seat and pushing the top of the bag closed.

 _"You're no fun."_

 _"I'm a lot of fun. I'm picking up the beer, right?"_ I reminded him as I parked in front of a bodega in Mulder's neighborhood.

I don't have my fake ID at the moment, but I'm feeling brave. I'll be twenty next week, and I think I look a lot older, especially with the scars from the road rash I got a few weeks ago. Besides, what's the clerk going to do, except tell me no?

But he didn't, so we have two twelve-packs of beer to go along with the shopping bag. And enough Chinese food for the four of us, and considering one of the four is Aaron, that's a lot of Chinese food. I don't know how he still has an appetite, working in the morgue all day, but he does.

 _"It doesn't gross you out?"_ I asked him after his first week.

 _"Nah, man, it's mad cool, right? You shoulda seen Liz today. She found a fiber in the back of a woman's throat, and she sent it off to the lab and they put it together with an exact type of pillow case, I mean down to the count and color and brand, right? The detectives were tickled shitless."_

 _"Yeah, but still…a fiber from a dead woman's throat? Yuck."_

But I like that he has his own thing. I mean, how cool will it be in ten years when he's a doc in the ME's office and I've got my shield?

So anyway, we have the shopping bag, and the beer, and the food, and another sack full of DVD's. I feel bad for Cecilia, being laid up in bed. It's only been one day, and I'd be climbing the walls, so I figured we'll try to help entertain her.

 _"You think Mulder can't entertain her?"_ Aaron laughed when I first made the suggestion.

 _"She has a broken leg,"_ I reminded him.

 _"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they can't still do it."_

 _"How old are you again?"_ I retorted. _"Jeez, A, it's not like that's all they think about. Besides, even if they do, it sure as hell won't take all day. She's going to be with him for a while, and he's going to have to go back to work. Maybe if we're_ _ **mature**_ _enough, we can take turns keeping her company, so that Mulder won't worry so much when he has to leave her there."_

 _"God, you sound like Dad,"_ he complained, but then he shrugged and said, " _But I mean that in the best possible way. You're right. My bad. Let's do it."_

So now the four of us are hanging out in Mulder's bedroom. Cecilia has pillows behind her, propping her up so she's sitting up in the bed, and she has more pillows under her casted leg, and a blanket thrown over her lower half. She's wearing one of Mulder's t-shirts, but I'm sure she'll appreciate getting her hands on the stuff Liz sent over. Actually, she teared up when I gave her the bag.

" _This is so sweet of her_ ," she said as she looked inside.

 _"Yeah, she said you lost everything, so…"_

 _"That had to be scary as shit_ ," Aaron commented, looking at Cecilia with awe as he leaned against the bedroom doorway.

I chucked him, because I wasn't sure if she'd want to talk about it yet, but she looked okay with it, and Mulder seemed cool about it, too.

 _"It was,"_ she admitted. " _Honestly, the falling was worse than being under water. Once the car hit the water, I just focused on getting out, but before…I know it's only about fifty feet, but God, it felt like it took forever."_

" _And with a broken leg and a messed up wrist, you still kept your cool and got out and then swam to shore,"_ Mulder said with admiration, and then he leaned over to give her a kiss.

 _"Um…we brought dinner but we can just leave it with you two, if you want, or…"_

 _"No way,"_ Cecilia interrupted, smiling at Mulder for a long moment before shifting her eyes to me. " _Bring in some chairs. We'll have a party in here."_

Which is how we all ended up in here, with me and Aaron on stools, our feet propped on the bed, and Mulder sitting up against the headboard, next to Cecilia. It seemed a little awkward at first, but for the past few hours, we've been laughing our asses off.

"I'm not kidding," Aaron said with a grin. "I've only been here for three weeks, and I've interrupted them at least four times. And the last time…oh my God…"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, and I'm guessing he's trying to ward off the image of last weekend, when we came home much earlier than the curfew.

"Liz and the chief?" Cecilia asked skeptically. "Really?"

"I know, right? I mean, they're old," Aaron said.

"They aren't that old," Mulder pointed out.

"Hey, at least somebody in our house is getting some," I commented.

"Speak for yourself. I'm doing just fine," my brother insisted.

"Yeah, well that's because you have no pre-requisites, other than she be female," I responded. I glanced over at Cecilia, wondering if our foray into sex talk was going to bother her, but she was smiling, and then she said, "So Aaron, you're a man-whore?"

All of us burst out laughing, with me and Mulder saying that _yes he is_ and Aaron protesting but only half-heartedly and then he finally grinned and said, "Yeah, okay, so maybe I am. So what? I'm in my prime, you know? Why waste it?"

"Because you might be missing out on finding the right one," I said.

Aaron rolled his eyes at me, considering this is a discussion we've had several times over the past few weeks.

"And that right there is why you can't get laid," he stated emphatically. "I mean, shit, even Liz said you could use a good one-night stand."

A knock on the door stalled my response, and had us all looking at Mulder.

"Are you expecting someone?"

"Lupo, maybe. He said he'd come by if he had time, to bring me the Taser."

The three of us left Cecilia in the bedroom, closing the door behind us, and went to the door, because there's always the possibility that someone might try to come finish the job on her. The black and white is still out front, but that doesn't mean anything, especially when we don't know who we're looking for.

But after glancing through the peephole, Mulder visibly relaxed and opened the door.

"This looks like trouble," Lupo said, coming into the apartment and taking in the sight of me and Aaron standing next to Mulder. "Maybe I should come back later."

"Why?" I asked.

"Leaving a Taser with the three amigos?" he clarified.

"You're leaving it with me," Mulder said. "Those two aren't touching it. Give me just a second, and then you can show me how it works."

He slipped away, back into the bedroom to let Cecilia know what was going on, and once he was gone, Lupo asked me, "So how're they doing?"

"They seem great," I answered.

"Yeah, she's a trooper," Aaron added. "I'm sure I'd be a big cry baby about the whole thing, but she's just taking it all in stride."

"It might take a couple of days to hit her," Lupo reasoned. "She's going to be stuck in bed until her wrist can tolerate using crutches, and even then, it won't be easy. She'll need friends."

"She's got 'em," I said firmly. He nodded, and then Mulder came back, so the two of them got down to business, and I know it's just for Mulder, but I watched and listened, too. So did Aaron. I mean, a Taser's pretty cool.

During the lesson, Lupo's phone kept buzzing, and he'd check the text and then put it away, and finally after the fourth time it buzzed, I had to say something.

"Connie can't stand to let you out of the house?" I teased, going out on a limb to think that he considers me enough of an equal to take ribbing from me.

Lupo once again looked at the message, but this time he didn't respond. He just set it down on the table and shook his head.

"It's B. He's bored," he explained with an eye roll and a smile, both of which made me feel good. "Lauren went to Jennifer's for some girl talk, but of course he didn't want her out alone, so he's been sitting in the car outside of Jennifer's building for thirty minutes."

"Girl talk," Aaron groaned. "I'm feeling for him. He could be there for _hours_."

"Yeah, because you know so much about women," Lupo scoffed good-naturedly, then he turned back to Mulder and finished his tutorial about the Taser.

I can appreciate why Mulder wants to have a weapon in the house. He wants to protect Cecilia. It also made me think more about Bernard, killing an hour or so on a Monday night, sitting in his car, just so he can keep Lauren safe. He's a good guy.

"Anyway, none of that frat boy stuff with this, you hear me, J-man?" Lupo stated, looking back at me. "Don't test this thing out on each other. It's serious business, and that's how you have to treat it, got it?"

"Why're you looking at me with that?" I asked.

"Because Mulder would never consider it, and if Aaron suggested it, you guys would blow him off."

"But if I said it, everyone would do it?" I countered questioningly, although I like that he must think of me as a leader. Although I'd prefer it to be a leader of _good_ things, but still…

"I'm just saying," he replied easily.

"Last year, maybe," I conceded. "Not anymore."

He held my gaze, appraisingly me carefully, and then he nodded, and as he did, his phone buzzed again.

"Ask him if he wants you to tell him a bedtime story," he said to me with a grin, gesturing towards his phone for me to pick it up. "But if it's a message from my wife, leave it alone."

"You're no fun," I joked as I grabbed his phone, half-hoping it _was_ from Connie because I might still look at it, to give me more teasing material.

It wasn't.

It was from Bernard.

And it doesn't look like it's just him being bored.

"Lupo," I said sharply to get his attention. I held up the phone and said, "It's like he started typing something and then he finished it with _1010-s._ "

Lupo grabbed the phone from me and headed for the door as Aaron said, "What's 1010-s?"

"Shots fired," I told him, hot on Lupo's heels. "I'm coming with you."

"Stay here," he responded firmly.

"I'm coming. If it's Lauren, it could be Flowers. And…you might need…"

I stopped talking because I know damn well that Lupo doesn't need me for anything, but I still want to go, and he didn't say no again. He didn't say anything, he just went out the door and started running towards the stairwell, so I hollered back at Aaron to stay put and then I turned on the jets and caught up to Lupo as we hit the ground floor.

"You think it's Flowers?" I asked him as we sprinted to his car.

"I don't know. It's a big building. It might not be related."

But we both know it is. Flowers figured out a way around the extra eyes on Lauren by going after her best friend, and somehow luring her over there.

I just hope like hell he didn't hurt either of them. That the shots fired were _at_ him rather than _by_ him.

And then it hit me that if I'm right, and Flowers managed to get Lauren over to Jennifer's, then he must have been alone with Jennifer for a while. He caught her by surprise and she wasn't able to get away from him.

That realization made me sick to my stomach.

"Should we call Mike Cutter?" I asked Lupo as we pulled away from the curb.

"No."

"My dad?"

"No," he repeated tersely, then he glanced over at me quickly before flipping on the siren and stepping on the gas. "Let's see what's going on first. Maybe we're overreacting."

"But you don't think so. You think it's him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I think it's him."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Lauren**_

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks to the handful of loyal readers who are still following this story. As you know, I can't reply to your reviews when you do it as a guest, so this is a thank you to the people who have taken the time to write a quick review.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Lauren POV**

* * *

As vigilant as I've been over the past month, I never saw this coming.

I never expected to be _here_.

In Jennifer's apartment.

Bound to a chair.

I'm facing Flowers, where he has Jennifer against the kitchen cabinets, and he's pointing the gun at me with one hand while with the other, he's trying to work her jeans down off her hips.

She's not fighting him. He told her if she did, he'd kill me.

So she's just standing there, completely silent but visibly shaking as he roughly shoves the denim down past her thighs.

 _"You're next,"_ he told me just moments ago. _"And if you're good, I won't kill her."_

So that's how he has us, that's how he's gotten this far.

We're each afraid of making him shoot the other.

I suppose it's a good plan on his part, but I can't let it continue like this, I can't let fear of what might happen keep me from trying to prevent what I know _will_ happen.

"Jennifer," I said, trying to convey my thoughts in those three syllables.

"No," she responded. Not surprisingly, she's completely on the same page with me.

Well, almost completely.

Because I want her to fight him off, even if it means he shoots me, because I know all she needs is a small window of opportunity in order to gain the upper hand over him. And really, what are the odds that he'll get off a kill shot with the first one? Because I trust her to only let him fire once.

But she won't do it. She won't risk me getting hurt to save herself from being raped.

I watched him as he finally got her jeans all the way off of her, and then he ran his hand back up her leg, both his aim and his eyes still on me.

"Stop," I said, this time to Flowers. "You can have me. I won't fight you, I promise. Just let her go."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked with an arrogant grin. "Seems to me like I'm about to have you both."

I tugged my hands against the duct tape that's binding me, and he just laughed, saying, "I can't believe I didn't try this sooner. Coming into an apartment like this. I'll get to take my time. We'll have lots of fun. I'll experiment with all sorts of things. With both of you."

He pushed himself against her, and then looked at me again and said, "What's the matter, Lauren? Are you jealous?"

"No, I'm afraid I'm going to piss you off," I said boldly, deciding on a different tack.

"I've got a beautiful half-naked woman in front of me, one who's going to do any damn thing I want, and I've got another one waiting in line behind her, so I'm not sure me getting pissed is even a remote possibility," he said smugly.

"I think it is," I asserted, pushing the issue since I have his complete attention, and he's eased back slightly from Jennifer. "Because I know any minute now you're going to unzip your pants and pull out that tiny little prick of yours, and I won't be able to keep from laughing. I mean, that's why you always like to take women from behind, right? So they can't see that little Vienna sausage you're packing?"

"You weren't laughing ten years ago," he said sharply, his face darkening in anger. But he's still focused on me, and he's stopped touching her, and I noticed that she's not shaking anymore. She's standing stock still. She's with me, I can tell.

When I first arrived, she could barely look me in the eye. I know she feels responsible for me being here. But I feel responsible for Flowers being here, so I think I win.

 _"Come in,"_ she said when I knocked on her door, about thirty minutes ago.

Her voice sounded off, thick and wavering. Of course, now I know why, but at the time, I thought it was because of the results of her pregnancy test. I figured she was crying, so as I opened the door, I was preoccupied, thinking about what to say to her.

But of course, I opened the door to find Flowers standing behind Jennifer. He had her in a choke hold with one arm, and in his other hand he had her gun, pointing it at her head.

I was temporarily frozen at the sight of her, blood coming from her nose and her eye swollen. Her neck was bleeding, too, enough that it stained her shirt. Her blouse was torn open and her skin was mottled red, from where his rough hands had touched her.

 _"Close and lock the door, and then lose the phone and gun,"_ he ordered.

So even though Bernard is three floors down, sitting in the car out front, I couldn't get word to him. And I couldn't protect Jennifer from Flowers.

Although I think I'm on to something now, because he's really starting to lose his cool.

"I gave you the best fuck of your life, and you know it," he continued, and it took everything in me not to react, not to back down, because the memories are flooding back, along with the fear and the pain I felt that night and so many nights since then, but I have to keep Jennifer from going through what I went through, so I swallowed the bile that was rising in my throat and I fired back at him.

"You want to know what the best part was? The rebar, because at least then I _felt_ something," I taunted, and I hated even saying that because I didn't want anyone to know about that, anyone other than B, at least, but it's not the time for holding back. I'm on a roll, and he's _pissed,_ and I have his complete attention, so I continued, "Before that, I wasn't even sure what you were doing. I mean, I heard your zipper, but it felt more like maybe your little finger."

"You fucking bitch!" he shouted, abruptly letting Jennifer go and charging at me, using both hands, even the one with the gun in it, to rip down his zipper, apparently intent on proving me wrong, and I shoved backwards in the chair, trying to scoot it further away from him, and then I heard a loud thunk and he fell forward, first hitting me in the legs and then rolling sideways onto the floor, landing on his back.

I looked up quickly to see Jennifer standing in front of me, her eyes wild, and there was a skillet in her hand.

"Is he dead?" I asked, shifting my attention back to our attacker. There was a small pool of blood beneath his head, but not enough, in my opinion.

I heard her exhale heavily and then she walked over next to him, the skillet still held tightly in her hand, and with the other hand, she checked for a pulse.

"No, but he's out cold."

She plucked the gun from his limp hand and set it on the table next to me, and then she tossed the skillet back in the direction of the kitchen.

"Are you okay?" she asked me as she turned back towards me.

"Me? Are _you_ okay?" I countered.

She didn't answer me, but instead bent back over Flowers, reaching in his pocket, and I wasn't sure for what at first, but then she pulled out a large switchblade, and after flicking it open, she came over to me and began cutting the duct tape to set me free.

"Jennifer," I said softly.

"I'm okay," she finally answered. "I just…thank you."

"You're thanking me? This is my fault."

"It's not. You saved us both. You knew if you made him mad enough, he'd come after you."

"I hoped," I admitted. "I also knew that you only needed a split-second of a chance and you'd take him out. And you did. You got him."

And then I was finally loose, so I got up and hugged her tightly, and said, "I'm so sorry this happened."

"He didn't really do anything. I've been mauled more on bad first dates," she deflected, trying to sound casual about the whole thing, even though we both know better.

She took in another deep breath and we stepped back from each other, both of us looking down at Flowers again.

"But damn, I thought that was it," she said somberly after another moment. "And all I kept thinking about was what would happen to you. And then I thought about Mike, and what if I'm…if I'm…I mean, I took the tests, but while I was waiting, that's when Flowers…"

I hugged her again, feeling so bad for her, that she had to go through this, and then the anger rushed through me, because she didn't deserve this, and I didn't deserve this, and that piece of shit lying there on the floor is just going to go back to prison.

"We need to call this in," she said at last, seeming to have regained control of her emotions "I've got cuffs in my coat…"

"B's downstairs," I said, but neither of us made a move to do anything. We just kept staring at Flowers, as he's lying there with his zipper open.

"You really whacked him good," I said.

"Not quite hard enough," she responded. "He's still breathing, which is a damn shame."

"You could hit him again," I suggested, kidding but not kidding, and she laughed and so did I, even though there isn't anything funny at all about the situation.

We both stopped after a moment, but I can't stop staring at him, thinking about how much he's haunted my dreams for the past ten years. How fucked up I was for so long, and how it took someone like B to help me finally feel worthy of being loved. How much he's taken from me by leaving me unable to have children.

How he's been stalking me, just to have another go at me, and when he couldn't get me, he went after my best friend instead.

"Can they tell?" I asked quietly.

"Can who tell what?"

I turned around and picked up her gun from the table before saying, "On an autopsy. Can they tell if he was conscious when he was shot?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe."

"Of course, they would have our word. He's in your apartment. He assaulted you."

"And you," she reminded me, even though I was trying to block it out. He kissed me and put his hands on me, after taping me to the chair. Nothing like what he did to Jennifer, but still…

"I want this to be over," I said determinedly.

"It would be hard to prove, whether or not he was conscious, but they _would_ be able to tell angle of entry of a bullet wound," she explained. "You, standing over him…"

Jennifer looked at me for a long minute, like she can't believe we're having this conversation.

Two fine, upstanding citizens.

Two officers of the law.

Two victims of this asshole.

 _It would be justifiable, wouldn't it?_

Maybe not legally, but morally, at least.

But we still can't do it.

As much as I'd love to blow him away, I can't kill him while he's unconscious. Even with everything he's done, my conscience won't allow it.

I set the gun back down on the table, and asked on a sigh, "Where are your cuffs? I'll hook him up and you can call it in."

"In my jacket pocket, over there. Are you sure?"

It makes me feel good to know that she's willing to go the distance for me. Maybe that's messed up, I don't know, but she's got a strong moral compass, and she's committed to law enforcement, and yet she'll cross the line. For me.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I answered, and as I said the words, I heard the front door open.

We both turned in surprise, our nerves clearly still on edge.

"Mike," Jennifer said in relief, rushing over and going into his arms.

"What the…is that…oh my God, are you alright?" he said, trying to hold together his shock at seeing her like that, at seeing me like I am, at seeing Flowers on the floor.

But even with all of his questions, he still held her without reservation, without any hesitancy, and I like that.

It makes me think about ten years ago, when my boyfriend showed up at the hospital after the attack.

He didn't even want to touch my hand.

But Mike isn't like that, and even though he has no idea what happened, he's holding her like he doesn't ever want to let her go.

"I'm okay. I'll explain everything," I heard her say, and then I glanced down at Flowers again to confirm that he's still not moving before going to get her jacket, which is hanging on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

"Is he dead?" Mike asked.

"Unfortunately no," I answered.

I bent down, reaching into her jacket pocket for the cuffs, and that's when I saw movement.

Swift, lunging movement.

Like maybe he's been conscious for longer than I realized.

I looked up quickly to see Flowers on his feet, hunched low and angling himself at where Mike and Jennifer are still lost in their embrace.

I shouted out a warning, and reached for the gun on the table, and as Mike pushed Jennifer off to the side, intent on taking on Flowers himself, I leveled my aim and pulled the trigger.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Cutter**_


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: This chapter's for Nikkiesplace. Keep on keeping on :)**

* * *

 **Cutter POV**

* * *

My ears are still ringing and there's a pain in my arm, and everything seems to be moving in slow motion.

Because I can't get the image out of my mind.

Of her standing there, bloody and disheveled and barely clothed.

It's only been five minutes, at the most, but I think I'll have equal vivid recall in five days.

Five months. Five years.

Because it scared me to death, seeing her like that.

I drove to her apartment full of piss and vinegar, intent on arrogantly convincing her that I don't _need_ time away from her, and maybe I _want_ to help her sort laundry, because God knows I just want to be with her no matter what we're doing, and I was going to chastise her for that phone call, pushing me away when I know she doesn't mean it.

Because if she thinks I don't know something's going on in her head, then she's crazy.

She's been off for a few days now.

I thought maybe it was work, until she blew me off tonight, and then I thought maybe she was afraid of how quickly things are moving for us.

And then I got to her building and saw Bernard parked outside.

It baffled me, but it only took a second for it to click.

 _"Lauren's here with Jennifer?"_ I asked him as I approached his open driver's side window.

 _"Counselor,"_ he greeted amicably, reaching for the handle and getting out of the car. He shook my hand and then leaned back against the vehicle and said, _"So what'd you do?"_

 _"What did I do?"_ I repeated cautiously.

 _"Jennifer texted for Lauren to come over, so I figure you screwed up, she wanted to talk about it with her friend, and now you're here to grovel at her feet."_

He was grinning as he said it, but his words had me doing a mental backtrack.

Did I do something?

I don't think so. I mean, she sounded kind of mad on the phone about the fact that I was pressing for us to be together tonight, but that wouldn't warrant a plea to her friend, would it?

Is it something else? That thing that's been on her mind lately?

 _"I'm just messing with you,"_ Bernard said after my continued silence. _"I'm sure it's nothing."_

 _"No, it's something. I just don't know what,"_ I mumbled with a shake of my head.

I've never been good at relationships. Never cared about being good at them, but this, with Jennifer…God, she's everything I've ever wanted, and I really do care about making sure to get it right, and if I've done something…

 _"She's a reasonable woman. Whatever it is, just apologize and mean it,"_ he advised.

 _"Yeah, what'd you say about groveling at her feet?"_ I said, finally forcing myself to smile.

 _"Good luck,"_ he replied.

I hustled across the street, calling out over my shoulder, " _You'll know soon enough. Either me or Lauren will be out in just a minute."_

I went inside and up the stairs, all the while rehearsing what I should say to her, considering I really don't know the issue between us.

 _I don't know the issue,_ I reminded myself, before adding smartly aloud, " _So ask her._ "

If I ask, then all I need to do is listen. And whatever I've done, I'll fix it.

Because as much as the past couple of hours without her has killed me, what'll it feel like to have to spend the rest of my life without her?

Excruciating.

As I approached her door, I calmed my paranoid mental ramblings.

She's not mad at me.

She's scared.

She told me that falling in love was terrifying for her, and yet we've still been going full steam ahead, so she's just having a moment of insecurity, and she called Lauren to talk it through.

 _No, she didn't call her to talk_ , I mentally corrected. She texted her to come over.

Which means…what?

 _She's more upset than I thought._

I started to knock, but then I decided to use my key. She gave it to me just last week.

 _"I know we never go to my place, but just in case,"_ she told me, looking a little embarrassed about the gesture.

 _"In case…"_ I said leadingly, tremendously pleased with the offering as I plucked it from her hand.

 _"I don't know,"_ she said, sounding much too serious and seeming slightly confused by her own actions, so instead of teasing her about it, I kissed her.

God, I love kissing her.

And touching her.

Talking to her.

Looking at her.

Seeing her smile at me.

So I slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, and there she was.

Blouse torn, face bloody…I shifted my disbelieving eyes to Lauren, duct tape stuck to her wrists, eyes wild…and then to the body on the floor.

 _"Mike,"_ Jennifer said, rushing into my arms, and I held her so tightly, wanting to keep her there forever.

 _"What the…is that…oh my God, are you alright?"_ I managed to say, although I didn't expect answers to any of my half-questions, and it really doesn't matter. All that matters is that she's alive and hugging me, and Lauren's alive, and Flowers is…I'm not sure what.

 _"I'm okay. I'll explain everything,"_ Jennifer said, her voice strong in spite of the fact that she's shaking from head to toe.

Did Flowers…?

I couldn't even finish that thought without feeling such murderous rage, and honestly, if he's _not_ dead on the floor, I might make him that way in just a minute.

Or an hour.

Or whenever I can bring myself to let Jennifer go.

Which might not be anytime soon because I felt her shudder and then she buried her face more firmly against my chest.

 _"Is he dead?"_ I finally asked, still not ready to ask that other question.

 _"Unfortunately no,"_ Lauren replied, catching my eye briefly before reaching down behind the table, fishing for something in Jennifer's jacket.

Cuffs, would be my guess, and I was so tempted to tell her not to bother, to tell her to just pick up that gun lying on the table and save us all the trouble of sending this piece of crap back to prison.

But I held back.

Instead, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against Jennifer's head, and did my best to comfort her as she continued to cling to me.

 _"Look out!"_ Lauren screamed suddenly and my eyes flew open in time to see Flowers glaring at us - at _Jennifer_ \- and he's on his feet, crouched like a tiger ready to pounce, so I pushed Jennifer out of the way, almost thankful for the opportunity to get vengeance on him, but before I could take action, shots rang out, and everything was suddenly surreal.

 _"Are you okay?"_ Lauren was asking me, her voice sounding far away, and I have no idea how much time passed between the shots and her question, but I do know that _this_ time as Flowers lies on the floor, much closer to me than before, half of his face is missing from the exit wound of the forty-five caliber bullet.

I stared at his lifeless body a moment longer, and then I finally looked up at Lauren, surprised to see her staring at me with concern, and I realized she asked me a question.

" _Yeah,"_ I answered dismissively, shifting my focus to Jennifer who was once again at my side.

 _"You're bleeding,"_ she stated, nodding towards my arm, and I glanced down to see a small patch of blood on my jacket sleeve, and I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her being concerned about _me_ after what just transpired in her home.

 _"It's just spatter. I'm fine,"_ I insisted, and then I pulled her back into my arms, and as I closed my eyes to the feel of her, the images stormed my brain, those ones that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I'm not sure how long we stood like that, just holding each other - like I said, five minutes or five years - when I suddenly heard the thundering footsteps and frantic shouts of Bernard.

"Lauren! Lauren!"

"I'm okay," she called back, moving past us to meet her husband at the door where his embrace was surely crushing.

"Oh, thank God. Thank God," I heard him say.

"He's dead," Lauren stated without emotion.

"I need to call it in," Jennifer said, slowly extricating herself from my arms. "I need to call Mary."

"Lupo's on the way," Bernard told us, finally releasing Lauren and stepping up to stand next to us, taking in the gruesome tableau.

"He can't work the scene," I said, and for some reason, my practicality annoyed the hell out of me.

 _Jennifer could've been killed tonight, and I'm spouting protocol._

"I can't imagine there'll be any doubt as to what happened here," he pointed out.

"He's right," Jennifer agreed, and at first I thought she meant Bernard, but then she caught my eye, nodding as she said, "Lauren and I need to go the hospital, to get checked out, and to make sure the attack is properly documented."

"We should call Ross," Lauren spoke up. "Let him decide who to send."

"I should still call Mary. She's my boss."

I squeezed Jennifer's hand, unable to take my eyes off of her, and I was relieved when she gave me a small smile.

"I know I can't change clothes, but I need to put something on," she said quietly, and then she tugged on my hand, urging me to go with her down the hall.

I felt like I should say something, but I have absolutely no idea what. I don't know what's going on in her head, or if she even truly wants me here since I still haven't pled my case, and yet that whole aspect of our relationship seems completely trivial at the moment. I'm going to be here for her, for whatever she needs, even if she's planning to dump me once the shock wears off.

I walked with her down the hall, each of us lost in our own thoughts, until I realized she'd stopped at the bathroom.

"You can't wash your hands, or your face," I reminded her gently.

"I know. Just…"

She trailed off as we heard Lupo's voice ringing out through the apartment. I can only imagine how fast he must've driven to get here so quickly. There's something comforting about knowing people like that, though. About having _friends_ like that.

"Come in here," she finished, pulling me into the bathroom.

I followed her into the room, and she closed the door behind us, and then she took both of my hands in hers.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you earlier. I shouldn't have insisted on being by myself," she began.

"Jennifer, none of this is your fault," I interjected.

"No, let me finish. Please. I…the whole time Flowers was here, while he was waiting for Lauren, all I could think about was you, and…and…well, how I should've told you what was bothering me instead of running away from you, and how if I got the chance, if I made it out of this whole thing alive, and if you still wanted me, after…I mean, he didn't rape me, but…"

She broke off for a moment, her words catching on a sob, and I started to hug her, but she shook her head, maintaining my gaze as she powered through.

"I would've let him. I was trying to give Lauren a chance to escape, to survive. You know what I'm saying? I didn't fight him. I mean, I did at first, but once she got here, I knew I couldn't let him hurt her again, and I was just praying that she'd find a way to get free, if he was distracted with…with me."

Her eyes, nearly silver in color from the unshed tears, were still locked on mine as she waited for my response.

"That has to be the most courageous thing I've ever heard."

"I don't know about that," she mumbled humbly, finally losing her battle with the tears, and stepping into my embrace. "I was scared to death. But I just couldn't let him…I couldn't let him hurt her again."

"I understand. But he hurt _you_."

"I'm hoping it's just me."

"Lauren looks okay," I said encouragingly.

"No, I mean…"

She stopped talking again, pulling back suddenly to look me in the eyes.

"I came home by myself tonight so that I could take a pregnancy test. That's what's been on my mind lately. Not second thoughts or doubts about you or us, but abject terror that I might be pregnant."

For the first few seconds, I felt like I couldn't breathe because honestly, it never once occurred to me.

In the next few seconds, I managed to think rationally.

I've never planned on being a father. I'm too selfish and work-oriented. And yet the idea of having a baby with Jennifer changes everything. A little girl with those stormy eyes…

I mean, sure, it's impractical. We haven't known each other very long, and it would most definitely be putting the cart before the horse, but the bottom line is, I love Jennifer, and if I have anything to say about it, marriage is in our future anyway, so what's the harm in getting a jump start?

"And? Are you?" I asked, moving my hand between us to put my palm against her stomach, the gesture gentle even while I had the thought of going out and putting a few more bullets in Flowers if she _is_ , and something happened to the baby.

"I don't know," she admitted, once again gracing me with a small smile. "I just finished taking them when Flowers…"

My eyes shifted over to the bathroom counter, where there were four sticks lying on the surface.

"Four?"

"I wanted to be sure," she replied. She looked back over her shoulder, but from where we're standing, it's impossible to read the results.

"I know you want it to be negative, but just so we're clear, I'm with you on this, either way, one hundred percent."

She looked up at me again, and the emotion in her eyes nearly does me in, as she said, "You are, aren't you?"

"Absolutely."

"Then let me tell you something I learned about myself in the last hour," she said as she reached out and put her hand on my cheek. "I realized that if I'm ever going to have a baby, I want it to be with you."

She kissed me, just a tender touch of the lips, and then she looked at me sadly as she added, "But I don't want it to be now. Not today. I don't want the memory of what happened here to be associated in any way with our child."

 _Our child_.

Just hearing her say the words solidified my adjusted stand on procreation.

I want to have kids with her someday, whether it be someday soon or further down the road.

It was my turn to kiss her, and then together we went over to examine the sticks.

A moment later, I heard Mary's voice through the door.

"Jennifer, are you okay in there? The paramedics are here."

"I'm coming," she answered, and then she grabbed her bathrobe from the back of the door and slipped it on over her tattered clothes.

"I'm coming with you," I said quietly, turning her towards me and gently tying the belt for her.

"They might want you to stay here to give your statement," she said, her hands covering mine as I finished the task, and then she stopped suddenly, looking down. "Mike…"

"What?" I asked, ignoring the lightheadedness that rolled through me because surely it's just a byproduct of the recent events.

She picked up my hand in hers, and I was surprised to see it covered in blood, and at first I thought it was hers, but then I didn't think much of anything at all as the room began to spin and darkness swallowed me whole.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Bobby**_


	35. Chapter 35

**Bobby POV**

* * *

On Tuesday morning, the squad room seemed more like a teenaged girls' slumber party than a police station, what with all the whispered gossip and speculation.

 _"Detective Hayes shot him."_

 _"You mean Detective Bernard. And yeah, I heard it was in the back of the head, too."_

 _"Not him, I mean the ADA."_

 _"She shot Cutter in the back of the head?"_

It was at that point, after listening to it all for nearly fifteen minutes, that Alex got on her chair and whistled unceremoniously, causing the room to fall silent.

"This is our colleague you're talking about. Our friend. Let's try to remember that, okay?" she called out, and then she added smartly, "Oh, and yeah, we're detectives, too, so how about we deal in facts instead of perpetuating vicious rumors?"

Everyone looked properly remorseful, and at her continued glaring, within a few more seconds, the entire squad was back to work.

Well, mostly.

Logan and Carolyn came sidling up to our desks. Mike was carrying a file, presumably to make it appear as if our conversation was going to be work-related, but I know they want an update.

"So what the hell happened?" he asked predictably, keeping his voice low. "And how come we're just now finding out about it?"

"Because you were partying in Boston until the wee hours," Alex reminded him with a smirk.

"And because we just found out ourselves a little bit ago," I added quickly before the two of them could start squabbling. They have sibling bickering down to a science, more so than any _actual_ siblings I've ever known.

"So what's the real scoop?" Carolyn asked. "Because if I were to believe the stories being told around here, Jennifer lured Lauren into a trap, selling her out to Flowers, and as payback, Lauren shot Cutter."

"Oh my God," Alex said in annoyance, shaking her head, and I'm right there with her, because it's pretty petty of our fellow detectives to be so common.

"Flowers lured Lauren, using Jennifer's phone," I corrected.

"But they're okay, right?" Mike asked quickly.

"Jennifer took the worst of it," Alex said. "She spent the night in the hospital, but she should be out today. Lauren was a little banged up, but physically, she's okay. Cutter took a bullet in the arm, but aside from initial blood loss and a knot on his head from the fall after passing out, he's going to be fine."

"The bullet went through Flowers and into him," I explained.

Alex and I don't know much more than that, other than the fact that Flowers is presently on a table in Liz's morgue.

Which is exactly where he belongs.

I hate that Lauren and Jennifer got hurt, and Cutter, too, but at least now, it's over.

 _"The Bernards are going to take the day,"_ Ross concluded, after bringing us up to speed, about an hour ago.

 _"Of course,"_ Alex responded quickly. " _They should take the week."_

 _"I suggested it, but she refused. Remind you of anyone?"_ he said wryly.

 _"Why didn't you call us?_ " I asked, hating the idea that so much was happening while Alex and I were in bed.

Happily in bed, of course, but still…our friends were hurt, and we didn't find out until this morning.

 _"You two worked all night Sunday night,"_ he pointed out. _"If I'd called you, you would've been up all night last night, too. As it stands, I'm hoping you both got a good night's sleep, right?"_

 _"Yes, but Chief,"_ Alex argued, and then she said quietly, _"Danny. You should've called us."_

 _"There was nothing to be done. I assigned IAB to the scene, just to eliminate any hint of impropriety. It doesn't help that Bernard was there before anyone else, and then Lupo arrived right after him. With Jeremy."_

Those last words were spoken with a small amount of distress, so I didn't even ask why on earth Jeremy was with Lupo, but instead I said, " _How'd he handle the scene?"_

Because Ross already mentioned that Lauren's shot to Flowers had obliterated his face. I have no doubt the scene was a disgusting mess, with gray matter and blood everywhere, not to mention the added stress of friends being involved.

 _"According to Lupo, like a pro,"_ he answered, pride replacing upset.

 _"Like his old man,"_ Alex stated.

 _"I can't keep that kid away from this stuff, can I?_ " he asked rhetorically. _"But at least he didn't step in evidence, or puke at the sight of the body."_

 _"So which IAB detectives are on it? And how long can it possibly take? The guy was an escaped felon, and he was in the home of a US Marshal."_

" _And Lauren is a previous victim,_ " Ross said, and then he sighed and closed his eyes briefly before saying, " _They want to make sure it wasn't a set up."_

 _"Are you kidding me?"_ Alex responded loudly. " _A set up? So Jennifer planned to get beaten and molested just so Lauren could shoot Flowers? Oh, and let's not forget that Cutter got shot in the process. How in the hell could that be part of the plan?"_

 _"Settle down, Detective,"_ Ross soothed. " _I put Davis on it. You remember him, don't you, Bobby?"_

 _"From the 2-7?"_ I asked in surprise. _"He's IAB now?"_

 _"He transferred a couple of months ago."_

 _"Ginger Barnes,"_ I reminded Alex.

 _"Yeah, I remember. But still, whose brilliant idea was it that this could be a set up?"_

 _"The press. They already caught wind of it, and you know how the media likes to spin things to make a good story. Davis is working with Horsley now, and you know they're both good, so we're going to let them do their jobs and clear everything up."_

Horsley's a good guy, and I know Davis is on the up and up, so maybe this won't be a snow job. Besides, I guess it's not like the old days when Moran was calling the shots. Ross is ultimately in charge of IAB, and I get that he wants to stay at arm's length, but if they go astray, he'll rein them in.

 _"What about the Marshal Service? I can't imagine Mary's just sitting idly by."_

" _They're doing their own investigation, considering one of their marshals was a victim. It's separate from ours, but she's going to offer her findings as well, once it's over."_

 _"So Mary's handling it herself?"_

 _"I advised against it, but as she likes to point out, she doesn't work for me,"_ Ross said with a smirk. " _And actually, she's bringing in a marshal from another department, to work alongside her. Someone unfamiliar with Jennifer_."

We all fell silent for a moment, and then Alex shook her head, saying, _"So he ambushed her in her apartment, and used her phone to get Lauren there, too."_

I wonder if it's making her think about Jo Gage. The ambush part, anyway. I can't help it in cases like this. And back then, texting wasn't what it is today, but still…what if she'd used Alex's phone to text me, to invite me over? I would've been there in a heartbeat. And then what? It makes me think we need to come up with a secret code or something, a way to validate our text messages.

And yeah, maybe that makes me sound paranoid, but who can blame me, in light of recent events?

"Tonight we'll drink to the death of that son of a bitch," Logan said firmly as the four of us continued to stand with our heads together in the squad room.

"Absolutely," Alex agreed. "So what's going on with Cecilia's investigation? You're pretty sure it's not Pirelli?"

"It doesn't seem to be," Carolyn answered. "We can't even be too sure it was a hit attempt. The guy was driving a stolen car, so maybe he was just being an asshole road rager, figuring he could get away with it."

"Maybe," I mused. "But you're still going to check with the mother, right?"

"You think we're going to half-ass the investigation? Have we met?" Mike said smartly.

"I thought half-ass was your middle name," Alex joked.

"No, that's _great_ ass," he corrected, causing her to bark out a laugh, and then she started to say something back, but Carolyn interrupted, smiling as she said firmly, "We're going to see Vanessa today. And we're working on getting toll booth shots to see if we can get a pic of the driver."

"See? A genius two-pronged plan," Mike grinned. "What about you two? How'd it go with psycho lady Jocelyn Moser?"

"She's as creepy as ever," I responded.

"Creepy's one word," Alex said. "I think I'd use a different one."

"Well now I have to know," Mike encouraged.

"Bottom line is that if it's her, we're not sure how she's getting the word out," I said quickly before they could get off on another tangent. "John thinks maybe it's her lawyer."

"It's her," Alex stated confidently, and I hummed my agreement.

"So what's next?" Carolyn asked.

I glanced over at Alex, since we'd been debating just that before the squad room began its grinding of the rumor mill.

"Chris Hanson," she said with a nod.

He's my idea.

Hers was to have a sit-down with Jocelyn's attorney.

 _"He's not going to talk,_ " I told her.

 _"Maybe he's muling and doesn't realize it. We should ask him about any type of communication she's given him."_

 _"And you know what he'll say. Attorney-client privilege."_

 _"But we can still get a read,_ " she insisted, and then after a brief pause, she asked, " _So you really think Hanson's involved?"_

 _"I have no idea, but I think we scared him pretty good last fall. He won't want us back in his office, so if he knows anything…"_

 _"But we ruled him out as being anything other than a lowlife john."_

 _"One with a lot to lose,_ " I pointed out.

 _"So…what? You think he's being blackmailed?"_

I shrugged, and we both were quiet, and that's when we noticed the topic of the room's chatter, so we didn't finish our discussion, but it seems like now, she's come to my side, which is funny because I think I went to hers.

"The Essex County prosecutor?" Carolyn asked, in response to Alex's statement.

"Or we start with Daniel Edelman," I countered, still holding my wife's gaze. She smirked at me as she shook her head.

"Wait, so I won an argument we didn't even finish?" she asked.

"Apparently so did I," I replied, and then we just stood there smiling at each other, and it amazes me to realize how much I really love my life.

I know it's probably not the best time to have the thought, considering what some of our friends are going through, but I can't help it.

Everything about it, about me and Alex, is exactly what it should be.

"Who's Edelman?" Mike asked. "Jocelyn's mouthpiece?"

"Yeah, and he's a piece of work," Alex said, finally breaking eye contact, but still smiling. "One who most likely isn't going to talk to us. So as usual, I'm going to say Bobby was right the first time around. We should start with Hanson."

"It might be a wasted drive to Newark," I warned. "Maybe he's been walking the straight and narrow for six months."

"After cheating on his wife with a call girl?" Carolyn scoffed good-naturedly. "I don't think there's any danger of him suddenly turning into a choir boy."

"Agreed," Alex said, and then she started to say something, but paused mid-syllable.

"What is it?"

"Well, I was going to suggest that Cutter try a little mano-e-mano with Edelman, but…I guess not."

I thought about him for a moment, the bullet hole in his arm likely being the least of his worries.

Ross was vague about Jennifer's injuries, out of respect for her privacy, but they were apparently significant enough to warrant an overnight stay at the hospital, and the more I think about it, knowing Flowers' predilection, the sicker it makes me.

 _She was alone with him for a while, long enough for Lauren to drive to her place, and even then, he still had her at his mercy…_

"Ask Connie," Carolyn suggested, breaking through my dismal thoughts. "It won't be a man to man chat, but I'm betting if there's something to be learned from him, she'll get it."

"Good idea," Alex agreed.

"We need to check in with them," I said suddenly, my mind still flashing on worst-case scenarios, and I know my words seem random, since they were talking about lawyers, but everyone was immediately right with me.

"I thought about texting Lauren, but I wasn't sure if the time was right yet," Mike admitted.

"There's no bad time to tell someone you're thinking about them," Carolyn said softly, but as he pulled out his phone, Lupo came into the squad room and approached our little group.

He looks like he was up all night, and I suppose he probably was. In fact, I doubt Ross would've blinked if he'd taken the day off today, but that's not Lupo's style.

"I'm texting Lauren. Good idea, or bad?" Mike asked him.

"She's actually doing great," he answered. "In fact, I think she'd be at work today, if it weren't for the IAB investigation."

"So Flowers didn't…"

"She's a little bruised, and a little mind-fucked, but I'd say overall, she's relieved that piece of crap is finally dead."

"And Jennifer?"

"She's being discharged right now. I doubt Mary's going to let her near the office for another couple of days, though. She has some bruised ribs, a black eye, and they put a few stitches in her neck, but…it could've been worse. It could've been a lot worse."

He pulled out my chair and sat heavily, scrubbing his hand over his face in a gesture of exhaustion, and then he continued.

"I've been tagging along with Horsley and Davis most of the night, just to make sure everything got handled properly. You know, I knew Lauren was smart, and Jennifer, too, but what those two pulled off, managing to overpower him when he was the one with the weapons…it's nothing short of amazing. But I think about that, and then I think about how it could've ended, with both of them dead…"

He broke off, shaking his head to dispel the image, and I'm right there with him because that's all I've been thinking all morning, since I heard the news: _How is it they aren't dead?_

"Anyway, as much as it's freaking _me_ out, apparently they're both fine. They said it's been too long since we all had drinks, so everyone needs to get their asses to Steve-O's, tonight at eight."

"And toast good riddance to Bill Flowers?" Logan asked with a grin.

"Damn straight," Alex said, as I nodded in agreement and said, "Yeah, I'm in."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Liz**_


	36. Chapter 36

**Liz POV**

* * *

I should've expected an audience.

Considering Lupo texted me to get a time for when I planned to start Flowers' autopsy, I had to know there would be interested parties.

I just didn't expect it to be Lauren.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" I asked her for the third time since her arrival.

I glanced over at her, awaiting her response, and I took in her appearance.

She looks beautiful, of course. In the months I've known her, I've never seen her look less than perfect, and I don't mean because she tries. She just can't help it. It would probably annoy the hell out of me if she weren't so nice.

Her hair is loose, and still damp from a recent shower, where I can only imagine she scrubbed her skin raw. Her wrists still bear the marks from her struggle against too-tight duct tape, and bruising along the side of her face and jawline is just starting to show.

But she appears more relaxed than I've seen her in weeks. Conflicted, maybe. Preoccupied. But still relaxed.

It's Bernard who seems on edge. He's standing next to her, watching her like a hawk.

"I need to see it," she answered, locking her eyes determinedly on mine, and then nodding towards the body on the table. "It's confirmation."

"That he's dead?" I asked, feeling like her mood was okay for teasing. "I don't think it's possible for him to be any more dead."

"If it were, I'd take care of it," Bernard mumbled.

"You'd have to stand in line, I believe," I remarked, and then Aaron came into the room, and he's gloved and gowned like he wants to assist me.

He's been working with me for a month, but only as an observer and gopher, not as an assistant.

I raised an eyebrow at him, and he assumed the classic Ross male stance, issuing a challenge without saying a word.

"No," I answered firmly, because maybe the chief can intimidate most people with that posture, and Aaron surely has it perfected as well as his father, but he's forgetting that I'm not one of those people.

"Oh, come on, Liz," he begged, instantly reverting to teenager tactics. "I just want to have a closer look."

"Not on this one," I answered with empathy. "But another one, okay? I just have to do this completely by the book, since IAB will be analyzing everything."

"IAB? Because they think Hayes shouldn't have shot him? Are you kidding me? That's just stupid," he responded, looking over at Lauren with indignant concern.

"She's Detective Bernard," I reminded him. "And it's an officer-involved shooting. They all get investigated, whether it's stupid or not."

"But I appreciate the support," Lauren said with a smirk.

Bernard turned to his wife and kissed her on the cheek, after whispering something in her ear, and then he started for the door, looking over at Aaron as he said, "Come on, A. Buy me a cup of coffee and explain to me why the hell you want to work in this place."

Aaron immediately pulled off the gloves and gown and followed Bernard out of the autopsy suite, leaving me and Lauren alone with Flowers.

"Something's on your mind," I stated, realizing that she wants to talk.

She shrugged, and her eyes glassed over a bit, but she didn't say anything, so I decided to let her start whenever she's ready. In the meantime, I picked up my camera and got to work, documenting the body's exterior condition, and making notes of every little scratch and blood stain.

And trust me, he has a lot of blood on him.

I hate knowing that it's not all his.

I was most of the way through collecting samples when Lauren finally spoke up.

"I know CSU did trajectory, but you're going to follow-up, right?"

Not exactly what I was expecting her to say.

"It's a head shot, Lauren. You were standing, he was standing…"

"And Mike was standing behind him," she finished solemnly, and that's when the lightbulb clicked on in my head.

"You feel responsible for his bullet wound?"

"I _am_ responsible for it," she replied emphatically.

I put down my camera and glanced across the table to where she was standing only a few feet away, and I can see the emotion welling up in her at an alarming rate, so I figure if I give her just a few more seconds, she's going to let it all out in a hurry.

She didn't disappoint.

"Liz, I could've killed him! I wasn't even thinking about him when I pulled the trigger. I wasn't thinking about anything but killing Flowers, and because of my carelessness, Mike could be in one of these drawers, waiting for you to cut him up! As if Jennifer doesn't already hate me enough, but on top of everything else, I shot the man she loves, and…"

"Wait, hang on," I interrupted. "I'm all for purging your feelings, but don't start spouting bullshit at me."

"None of what I said is bullshit," she replied hotly, and I don't mind because I know her outrage isn't aimed at me. It's apparently not at the man on the table, either, although it should be. Instead, it's at herself.

"Why on earth would Jennifer hate you?"

"Are you kidding me? Look what happened to her, and it's all my fault! Flowers never would've come after her if it weren't for me. Everyone was so worried about my safety, and while I'm surrounded by people everywhere I go, she's home alone with that psycho, and he…he…God, Liz, he had his hands all over her, and she let him because…because…she was trying to keep him from hurting me, but instead he hurt her, and after everything she endured for me, I recklessly fired her weapon, putting one of her own bullets into her boyfriend, into the fa…well, maybe the…I mean…"

She broke off, and tears were streaming down her face, and seconds ago, I stripped my gloves and moved around the table, so as she finished her tirade, I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her close and letting her cry.

Once again, I feel like a mother, rubbing her back and soothing her as she worked through her emotions. We stood like that for several long minutes, and then I felt her take a deep breath and relax her hold on me.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.

"Sorry? For what? We're friends. Unless…wait, am I supposed to hate you, too?"

She rolled her eyes, smirking even as she sniffled, and then shook her head and said, "If he'd come to your house, God forbid, then yes."

I sighed at her rationale because I know there's no way Jennifer blames her for what happened, but Lauren isn't going to just take my word for it. The least I can do is hopefully ease her mind about the shooting, so I motioned her closer to the table.

"Let's take a look at this gunshot wound," I said, gloving up again and then leaning down for closer inspection.

Danny told me what happened at Jennifer's apartment. He went over there last night after Lupo called him. I was going to go, but he suggested a different ME.

 _"Just for the on-scene work,"_ he clarified. _"Just to be on the safe side."_

 _"Because I might try to cover something up?"_

 _"I don't see there being anything to cover up. I'm just saying, I'll have to get IAB on it, and if they show up and everyone in that room is friends with the victims, it might look suspicious."_

He was right, so I didn't fight him on it, although I did insist on performing the autopsy. IAB can say whatever they want, but I don't want to risk Jenkins missing something vital.

Especially after I talked with Jeremy, after he got home from the scene. I held my tongue at first, since Aaron was with him, but once the younger boy went to bed, Jeremy and I went into the kitchen.

 _"What were you thinking, going over there?"_

 _"I was with Lupo when he got the text from Bernard. We didn't know what was happening, and…"_

 _"I'm not asking how Lupo found out. I'm asking why you went with him,"_ I repeated, only feeling marginally bad for harping on the issue. Ordinarily, I wouldn't feel bad at all because we just discussed his excessive involvement, and I thought we had a solution we could all live with, and then tonight, there he was at a crime scene.

 _"Because,"_ he said determinedly. _"Liz, it was Lauren and Jennifer."_

His simple explanation, combined with his distressed expression, caused me to back off.

I can't blame him for wanting to make sure the women were okay. In fact, I find his actions gallant and brave.

 _"So tell me about it. How are they?"_

He surprised me then, by stepping forward and wrapping his arms around me.

 _"I feel so bad for them,"_ he said, his voice ragged and strained. _"They had to have been so scared, and I could tell Jennifer was in a lot of pain, but Liz…they overpowered him."_

That much, I knew, just from the call from Lupo, but I let him tell it in his own way.

 _"They didn't let their fear get the best of them. They were smart enough to get the upper hand, even when the odds were stacked against them. It's just…they're amazing."_

He paused for a minute, still holding me tightly, and then he said, _"I don't understand what goes through the mind of a man like Flowers."_

 _"I'm not sure anyone does."_

 _"And you know, they were just going to arrest him. Take him into custody. After everything he did. But then he got up and went after Jennifer again, and that's when Lauren shot him."_

He took another deep breath and then he relaxed his hold.

 _"Are you okay? I would imagine it was a pretty gruesome scene."_

 _"I keep seeing it in my mind,"_ he admitted. _"I probably will for a while, huh?"_

 _"Yes. Which is one reason why your father doesn't want you going to crime scenes. It's not a game, Jeremy. Real lives are involved, real people."_

 _"I know that. But I had to go. I mean, so what if I have a few nightmares? It's nothing compared to what Lauren's been going through, and now Jennifer will, too. And how can she ever go back to her apartment now?"_

 _"She's strong. And people do what they have to do."_

He nodded thoughtfully, and then said, _"I know Dad's ticked at me, but do you think he'll be okay if I take the day off tomorrow? Mulder needs to go back to work, and I thought I'd keep Cecilia company. She still can't get around very well, and I don't think it's smart to leave her alone."_

 _"I think your dad will be happy with that decision,"_ I said, ruffling his hair as a wave of love went through me. _Such a good boy._

We talked a little more, and then he went up to bed while I went back into the den, intent to wait for Danny to return home. It turned out to be quite a while, but such is the life we chose, the life I'm happy to be living, and instead of talking, we just went to bed.

But still, from the earlier conversations, I know the gist of what happened.

I know that Lauren was reaching for handcuffs when Flowers lunged at Mike and Jennifer.

She did what she had to do to protect her friends, and yet she's beating herself up about it, but I find it impossible to believe that someone as professional as Lauren would ever be careless with her weapon.

At the moment, Flowers is prone on the table. There's a nice, neat entrance wound on the back of his head, towards the upper right side.

"Give me the layout," I said to her, even though I know it.

"Mike and Jennifer were a few feet from the front door. She had her back to me, and he was facing me. They were hugging," she clarified.

"Okay, and Flowers was…"

"He was on the floor next to the table. Maybe ten feet from them," she stated, and then she looked up, her attention shifting from the bullet hole to me as she said, "He was out cold for several minutes. Jennifer hit him with a skillet. Hard."

"Uh huh, I can see that," I replied, pointing a gloved finger to the redness barely visible through his close-cut hair. He hadn't lived long enough post-whack for any kind of real bruising, but the point of impact was still easy to find.

"I wanted her to hit him again," she said softly. "And then we talked about just shooting him, as he was lying unconscious on the floor."

"Perfectly reasonable desire," I remarked. "In fact, I'm impressed with your willpower. But I hope you didn't mention that part to IAB."

"I did," she answered. "I was completely honest about everything."

I raised a purposeful eyebrow at her and asked, "Why?"

She hesitated for a moment, at first surprised by my question, and then she closed her eyes, shaking her head as she said, "Because I didn't do anything wrong."

I love helping a person reach the right conclusion all on their own, but while I was mentally patting myself on the back, she continued.

"But that's just in the part about shooting Flowers. I mean, my decision to pull the trigger. He was a threat to the lives of others. But I didn't consider the angle, or the fact that I was putting lives at risk, too. Mike and Jennifer's lives."

"So then why did you hit him so far to the right? I thought you were a good shot."

"I…I am," she said, looking back at the bullet hole.

"So you hit where you were aiming. Even after the traumatic events. Even when you only had a split second to react."

"Well…yes."

"You aimed to the right. Because that was the furthest side from where Mike and Jennifer were standing," I stated. "You were being careful of your friends."

"I think Mike would beg to differ, considering the doctor had to dig a bullet out of his arm last night."

I rolled my eyes at her stubbornness and then grabbed onto Flowers shoulders and carefully rolled him onto his back.

"Bullets don't always go straight, especially after hitting bone, and even more so after hitting the thickness of a skull."

She was quiet as I probed the wound, her eyes watching my every movement, and then I pointed to what remained of his right orbital rim.

"This is what triggered the ricochet effect," I told her.

She looked up at me with skepticism, so I explained, "Your shot wasn't careless. You aimed right, and the path was altered, causing it to shift left and go into Mike. There's no way you could've predicted that happening like it did. And your only other alternative was not to shoot, right? And then where would Mike be right now? Possibly a whole lot worse off than a minor bullet wound."

She continued to stare at me, and I waited as she digested my words, and then she exhaled heavily and nodded.

"Okay, so…okay," she said with relief.

"And you _know_ there's no way Jennifer blames you for him getting shot. There's no way she blames you for any of it."

"But…"

"You think this is the first time some nut job has gone after a loved one? Hell, I was attacked right here in this morgue by some guy out to ruin Danny and Bobby."

She nodded, obviously having heard the story even though it was before her time at Major Case, but then she asked, "And you never felt any kind of bitterness or resentment towards either of them?"

She had me with that one. I _did_ spend a little time - much too much time - blaming Danny.

"Maybe. But I came around to realize what I'm sure Jennifer already knows. That you can't control crazy people."

I changed the topic after that, knowing that she had the information she needed, and it would just take some time for her not to feel guilty about it, so we chatted amicably while I worked on Flowers, and after another ten minutes or so, I could hear Aaron and Bernard talking as they came back down the hall.

"Hey," I said quietly, just before the men entered the room. "I'm glad you're okay. And I'm glad he's dead."

And for the first time today, she smiled. An exhausted, relieved, victorious smile.

"Yeah, me, too."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Mary**_


	37. Chapter 37

**Mary POV**

* * *

I headed for Steve-O's early because I really need a drink.

Alone.

I need to get my head on straight before the arrival of the masses.

Because this day has been…well, I really have no words.

Let's just say maybe I'll have _two_ drinks before anyone else shows up.

Three, tops.

But honestly, I suppose the crappy day was to be expected, considering it actually started last night, when I got the call to go to Jennifer's apartment.

 _"Hey, it's Lupo,"_ was the response when I answered the phone.

 _"I know. You think you don't rate being logged into my contacts?"_ I replied wittily. At the time, my mood was pretty decent. John and I just finished having drinks with Alex and Bobby, and the two of us were headed upstairs for early bed. One of my favorite things.

But in spite of my clever repartee, Lupo responded with seriousness, " _You need to come to Jennifer's. There's been a…well, it's…"_

 _"Is she okay?"_ I asked immediately, a sick feeling rolling through me as I pushed the next floor's button on the elevator so that I could get off and go back downstairs.

 _How long has it been since I got a similar call, one regarding Anna Holly,_ I thought with panic.

 _"She's okay,"_ he confirmed. _"Flowers came here. He spent some time with her, he got Lauren here, Mike showed up...and Flowers is dead."_

 _"Out of everything you just said, those last three words are the only ones I like."_

 _"Ditto. I called Ross, and he's sending IAB, but Jennifer insisted I call you, too. I'm guessing the marshals will want to do their own thing here."_

 _"Who killed him?"_

 _"Lauren. But it wasn't for Jennifer's lack of effort. And it was her gun."_

 _"I'll be there in ten."_

I hung up on him, and then explained the situation to John as he ran with me down the stairs.

And I have to say, I love that he did that.

Ran with me when he had no clue what was going on.

Anyway, I left him in the lobby and I hailed a cab, since I probably had about five beers too many for driving myself, and on the way to Jennifer's, I made a call to my boss.

 _"You need to stay away from it,"_ he said.

 _"Not happening,"_ I retorted firmly. _"Just send someone to work with me, someone who doesn't know me or Jennifer. Shouldn't be too hard."_

He relented rather quickly, likely due to my take-no-prisoners attitude, so I gave him the address and he stated an inspector would meet me there within the hour.

 _"Don't go in until he or she gets there."_

I mumbled a sketchy agreement before hanging up, and of course, I promptly blew off that directive when I arrived at Jennifer's, hustling up the stairs and badging the officer stationed in the hall outside her apartment before barreling inside.

The sight was…terrifying.

Blood in places it has no business being. Furniture askew. Pictures broken. A dent in the wall. And of course, the dead body on the floor.

I just stood for a moment, my eyes tracking over every inch of the place, piecing together the struggle in my mind as it must have happened.

 _"She's in the bathroom with Mike,"_ Lupo said quietly, having come up next to me. _"Lauren's giving her statement to IAB, but as soon as the paramedics get here, they're both going to the hospital to get checked out."_

I took in the sight of Lauren, her hand tightly holding onto Bernard's as she spoke with the IAB detective. Ross was lurking nearby, surely prepared to pull the plug if she utters any words that don't fully jive with a justifiable shooting, and if I didn't already love him, his supportiveness of her would've put me over the top.

I also appreciate that while Lauren looks rattled and disheveled, she's mostly keeping it together. And her clothes are intact. And there's only a little bit of visible physical damage.

That's when it hit me _why_ those things are all true.

Jennifer would've protected her, as best she could anyway. Which means _her_ condition is...what?

 _"Why's she in the bathroom? She knows she can't clean up."_

And then my eyes fell onto the pair of jeans lying on the kitchen floor, and the bile rose in my throat again.

 _"Tell me that fucker didn't rape her, or I swear to God I'm going to…"_

I trailed off because I don't know how to finish that sentence, since he's already dead, but still…I want to kill him again and again.

 _"I don't think so, no. But she went to put something else on, to cover up."_

I could hear footsteps from behind me, so I turned to see the paramedics coming down the hall.

 _"I'll go get her,"_ I said softly to Lupo, wanting to put eyes on my partner, my friend. I need to see for myself that she's okay.

I went down the hall and paused for a moment before knocking, not really listening, but mostly just fortifying myself. But I could still hear.

 _"I thought I would be happier,"_ she was saying, her voice sounding muffled.

Happier? Happier than _what_? Happier _about_ what?

 _"We don't have to think about it right now,_ " came Mike's voice, a deep comforting rumble.

 _"I know,"_ she responded, and I'm not sure because I don't know if I've ever seen her cry, but her voice sounds like it's thick with tears. " _I love you."_

I hated interrupting their moment, so I waited another beat until I heard him respond in kind, and then I knocked on the door.

 _"Jennifer, are you okay in there? The paramedics are here."_

 _"I'm coming,"_ she answered, and there was rustling for a moment, and then I heard their voices, but I couldn't distinguish the words, and I was about to knock again when I heard a loud thud, and Jennifer shouting Mike's name and mine consecutively.

I reached for the knob, and it was locked, but I didn't hesitate to shoulder my way into the room, busting through the door with ease, only to find Mike in a heap on the floor and Jennifer bent over him.

 _"What the hell happened?"_ I asked as I knelt next to her, and then I called for the EMT's as she answered, _"I don't know, but he's bleeding."_

Turns out the Flowers kill-shot was a through-and-through.

 _That piece of crap can't even die right_ , I thought.

He had to let the bullet come out the other side, so that it went into Mike's arm.

Anyway, we found that out on the way to the hospital. It was me and Jennifer and Mike all in the back of the ambulance, much to the dismay of the paramedic, and once Mike's suit jacket was removed to reveal a blood-soaked shirt sleeve, the wound was easily visible.

 _"He's going to be fine,"_ I assured Jennifer as the ambulance sped through the darkened streets.

As if on cue, Mike came around, and despite looking pale and disoriented, he immediately reached for Jennifer's hand.

 _"See?"_ I said with a smirk.

She didn't acknowledge me, but instead focused solely on Mike, one hand holding his while the other stroked through his hair, so I kept my eyes on _both_ of them while my mind wandered through the protocol of what comes next.

IAB investigation by the NYPD. My investigation for the USMS. Flowers escaped prison and stalked Lauren for a month, then used Jennifer as bait, and when he ended up dead, somehow both of them are potentially on the hot seat. So yeah, it's my job to make sure she gets treated fairly. _And_ it's my job to make sure she gets a damn medal.

But unfortunately, it's not just me working on behalf of the marshal service.

As we were loading Mike into the ambulance, my temporary partner arrived. I don't know what the hell my boss was thinking, sending me a kindergartner dressed like a marshal, but that's what I got.

 _"Inspector Strathmore?"_ she asked as I brushed past her, despite already noticing the USMS badge hanging from a chain around her neck.

 _"Halloween was eight months ago,"_ I replied smartly. " _And it's a crime to impersonate a federal officer."_

 _"Impersonate,"_ she repeated in confusion. _"I'm not…I'm Inspector Payne."_

 _"See, you didn't even come up with a realistic name. Go home, it's a school night."_

And yeah, I was being a bitch, but come on…she's twelve if she's a day. I don't need to babysit during the investigation of an incident involving my friend.

I need street-smart. Seasoned. Savvy. I need an ends-justify-the-means kind of person because I still haven't heard the whole story, but either way, I'm set on what the outcome is going to be.

By that point, Mike was loaded, and Jennifer was in the back, and the paramedic looked like he was ready to close the door, so I really didn't have time to waste with the Barbie, or I was going to get left behind. I grabbed onto the handle and hauled myself into the back.

 _"Wait!"_ she called after me. _"I'm supposed to work with you!"_

I suppose I have to give her points for doggedness, as well as for tolerating my rudeness.

 _"You want to work with me?"_ I replied with attitude. _"Get your ass up to the scene and go over absolutely everything. I mean pictures, notes, the whole shebang, got it? And then meet me at the hospital and bring me up to speed."_

Again, I'll give her credit, because her response was confident and immediate, _"Yes, ma'am."_

 _But maybe I'll wait and give her credit after I hear what she has to say_ , I corrected as the ambulance approached the hospital.

Although now, sitting in Steve-O's working on my second beer, I've decided she deserves a lot of credit. And maybe I deserve to have my ass kicked for being so shallow, and judging her by her looks. Hell, based on my current group of friends, I've certainly learned that attractiveness and ability to kick ass aren't mutually exclusive. Maybe Inspector Payne won't be so bad after all.

She _did_ do a nice job piecing together the sequence of events. And when she called me to find out which hospital, and I made an unorthodox request, she didn't even blink.

" _Did the NYPD's CSU work the whole place yet?_ " I asked her, surprised that she had my number, but impressed with her resourcefulness.

" _No, but they're in the hall, so it won't be long before they finish."_

 _"Did you finish your assessment already?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"So you saw the pregnancy tests on the counter?"_

 _"I did. Four of them."_

More points for not spouting out the results.

 _"Slip back in there and get rid of them. They don't need to be part of any crime scene documentation. They're completely irrelevant."_

Jennifer and Mike don't need the NYPD or the USMS or the press knowing they had a pregnancy scare. It's not anyone's business, and I feel bad that she had to tell me, and I feel even worse that she didn't _want_ to tell me on her own, but the bottom line is that the sticks have no bearing on what happened with Flowers.

 _"Yes, ma'am,"_ Payne answered quickly. I told her which hospital, and she said she'd see me within the hour.

 _"Tests will disappear,"_ I told Jennifer after hanging up with Payne.

 _"Thank you. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but…"_

 _"I get it,"_ I interrupted. _"It's no one's business."_

She nodded, leaning back in the hospital bed and closing her eyes. Mike had been taken down to x-ray, and Jennifer already endured having pictures taken of every injury, from head to toe, so for the moment, it's just me and her in the room.

 _"I was going to tell you,"_ she said after another minute.

 _"You're under no obligation…"_

 _"Mary,"_ she said firmly. _"I wanted to tell you because you're my friend. But I was too freaked out about it. I didn't even tell Mike until after."_

 _"So it was negative?"_

She hummed her response, nodding as she looked away, focusing instead on a spot on the wall.

 _"And you wanted it to be positive?"_ I ventured.

 _"No,"_ she said after a moment, and then she finally brought her eyes back to mine, and she's weepy again. It's not something I'm used to seeing with her. _Of course she was just attacked,_ I reminded myself with irritation.

 _"I was praying for it to be negative,"_ she elaborated. " _And I'm glad it was, after what happened, but…"_

She trailed off, sighing and shrugging her shoulders, and I took a minute to look her over, her face now clean of blood but bruises cropping up everywhere.

 _"Don't change your mind right now,"_ I said quietly. _"You've been through a lot. Mike, too. It's something you need to talk about, when it's not imminent and neither of you are hurt or in danger, you know?"_

 _"I know,"_ she agreed, and then she chuckled self-deprecatingly. _"It's just not something I thought I ever wanted to talk about."_

 _"Yeah, but now you're in love,"_ I said teasingly. " _You're going to get married, move to the burbs, have two-point-two kids…"_

She laughed fully then, and I felt such relief to see her seeming more like herself.

 _"You're already married,"_ she reminded me. _"Isn't it about time for you to be cranking out those babies?"_

 _"God, can you imagine? Me, as a mother?"_ I said cynically, and then Mike was wheeled back into the room, so I thought the matter was dropped, but after greeting him, she turned back to me and said with a smile, _"Yes. I absolutely can, without a doubt."_

So damn her for planting the seed.

Because earlier this evening, after I spent the day with Payne writing reports and going back over the scene and briefing the boss, I was leaving the office, walking down the block towards my car, and I passed a woman pushing a stroller.

And I _looked_.

Into it, I mean. At the tiny little body dressed head to toe in pink. The tuft of blonde hair and the round cheeks and the big blue eyes.

I'm going to blame Jennifer entirely for the fact that as I continued down the sidewalk, I thought about what a John and Mary baby might look like.

And it's probably that preoccupation that made me unaware of the man behind me.

 _"Don't make me hurt you."_

The voice was accompanied by a hand on my arm, gripping me tightly as I was tugged into a side alley.

The only reason why I didn't immediately rip the guy a new one and then pull my gun is because I recognized the voice.

Rocco.

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to let him bulldog me, either.

 _"You need to let go right now, or so help me God…"_

He let go of my arm and took a step back as I turned around.

 _"Where the hell have you been?_ " I asked him, taking in his haggard appearance.

 _"Watching you. Why didn't you just leave him, Mary? I tried to warn you away from him."_

 _"Why would I leave John?"_

 _"Because he doesn't love you. He's still in love with Heidi. You of all people should know that."_

His statement caught me off guard, and I guess I didn't mask my reaction very well, because he pounced.

 _"See, you do know. What do you think, if you hang around long enough, he'll forget about her? He mourned her for ten years."_

I know that. But I also know that he's over her. And he does love me. It's just a bit of an Achilles' heel for me, I guess, and somehow Rocco knows that.

 _"You put out a hit on him,"_ I reminded him. _"And for what? Just to get me to leave him? You thought I'd be scared? And how would you have felt if the Albanians had actually killed him?"_

He shrugged, looking down at the ground for a minute, and then he said, _"You don't get it, Mary. Me and you. Four plus five. It's the base language of all things linear. We're destined. It's fate."_

I stared at him in confusion, having no clue as to what he was talking about, but I could tell that it really meant something to him.

 _"Nine is universal love. Eternity. Faith. It's a soul mission, and you're my mission, Mary."_

 _"I'm sorry, Rocco, but you know I need to take you in. The things you did, they're crimes. We need to get you in to see a doctor, and…"_

 _"No doctors!"_ he shouted suddenly. " _What, you think I'm crazy? It was those pills making me crazy. I'm sane as a…as a ...well, I'm as sane as you."_

 _"That's not much of an argument,"_ I said with a rueful smile. I reached behind me to get my cuffs, and he took few steps away from me.

 _"I'm not going with you_ ," he said. _"But I'll be back for you, I promise."_

 _"Rocco…"_

He turned and started running, and I took off after him, calling out for him to stop, but of course, I wasn't going to shoot him or anything, and once we were back on the sidewalk, he disappeared into the crowd.

"Or maybe you just didn't want to catch him," I said aloud as the waiter brought my third beer.

I mean, the whole experience creeped me out a little, but he doesn't want to hurt me. He was just trying to make me see his side.

But I also don't want to tell John.

Or anyone else, really. No one will understand why I didn't just flatten him and slap on the cuffs. I'm not even sure I understand except that maybe I feel sorry for him.

 _And his Heidi remark really threw me_ , I pointed out to myself.

"It's just you?"

I looked up to see my temporary partner approaching the humongous table. Because yeah, I'm a sucker and I invited her. She actually did do good work today, even more than just delivering the sticks and packaging on the sly to Jennifer at the hospital.

"No," I said, smiling at the rude awakening she has coming once everyone arrives. "So you might want to grab a seat before they're all gone, Payne."

"Maddie," she corrected. "And thanks."

She waved to the waiter, and I said, "They card in here," which made her laugh.

"I'm twenty-two."

I looked her over, taking in her long, shiny blonde hair and her big blue eyes, and I shook my head dubiously, teasing her of course, but wanting to see what she's made of. She rolled her eyes and said confidently, "Yes, I'm young, but I have my Bachelor's, and I finished the five months of training, and I might be fairly new to the job, but I'm working my ass off to prove myself, so can we move past my looks please?"

So then it was my turn to laugh, and I decided I definitely like her.

"Touché, Maddie," I said as the front door opened and four NYPD detectives filtered into the joint. "Squeeze that chair over here to make room. It looks like the party's about to start."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Connie**_


	38. Chapter 38

**Connie POV**

* * *

I got to Mulder's apartment around six-thirty, with the intention of relieving Jeremy.

Mulder texted a little bit ago to tell me that he's swamped at work, and it might be eight or nine before he makes it home, and Jeremy's been there with Cecilia all day.

I texted him back, teasing him even while being extremely proud of him for his work ethic in his newfound career.

 _ **Afraid J might have game?**_

His response was quick, as it usually is, because Mulder can be working on three computers simultaneously and still manage to have the brain cells and a finger at the ready for texting.

 _ **Ha ha. Not even a little bit. But he was up late last night.**_

Up late.

Because he went to Jennifer's, with Lupo.

 _"You took him with you?"_ I asked my husband when he arrived home at nearly four in the morning.

 _"I couldn't take the time to argue with him. And really, he's sharp. He's an extra set of eyes, and he'll make for a good witness if there's ever a need for testimony about what went on before IAB arrived."_

I couldn't fault his logic, and I wasn't really questioning his judgment anyway, I was just surprised.

" _I appreciate you thinking of me and my potential need for a witness,"_ I said with a smile, watching him as he stripped down and climbed into bed with me.

As worried as I'd been initially, when Lupo first told me what was happening, he'd since called to ease my mind, filling me in on the whole situation and then saying he was going to spend some time with IAB and then run by the hospital before coming home.

While waiting, I thought about the possible implications of what Lauren had done. I know my boss is a fair man, but sometimes he and I don't see eye to eye, and Lupo's mention of Jeremy being a possible witness had me indignant.

" _But we shouldn't need a witness. If Jack McCoy even thinks about wanting to prosecute, I'm turning in my resignation_."

 _"He was at the hospital,"_ Lupo told me, sighing with exhaustion as he pulled me into his arms.

 _"Jack?"_

 _"Uh huh. His executive assistant did get shot."_

 _"I know, but…huh,"_ I mused. _"So you talked to him? Did he say anything about…"_

 _"Connie, it's four a.m. Are we going to talk about your boss?"_ he asked, his voice just a whisper as his lips grazed the side of my neck.

We didn't.

But I did seek out Jack when I arrived at the office this morning.

 _"I'm not presenting the Flowers case to a grand jury,"_ I stated firmly as I stood in the doorway of his office.

He looked up at me with wry amusement, giving me a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.

 _"Is there a Flowers case?"_

 _"You know what happened. Lupo said you were at the hospital."_

 _"I was checking on Mike, who'll be out of the office today, by the way."_

 _"I figured."_

 _"You can handle whatever he was working on?"_

 _"Of course,"_ I responded.

 _"Good. Then let's not worry about a grand jury unless the police bring us compelling evidence to warrant prosecution."_

 _"Even then,"_ I pushed, wanting to make my stand clear.

 _"You're friends with the involved parties. I get it,"_ he said amicably. _"And considering I think Inspector Dunn must walk on water, since she manages to put up with Mike, I'm on board with you."_

 _"Good,"_ I said with a sharp nod. It always seems to surprise me, when he tosses out a sense of humanity, although I'm not sure why. I respect the hell out of him. I guess it's just that sometimes I feel like he lets the politics of the office override his decency.

Anyway, that was this morning, and I spent the day in Mike's office, strategizing for the upcoming Jocelyn Moser appeal.

At noon, the Gorens dropped by.

 _"We're in the market for a search warrant. Know where we might get one?"_ Alex said as she entered the office.

 _"Anything that might get us out of actually going to trial sounds like a great idea to me. Who are we looking at? Do we have cause?"_

 _"If you squint and look at it sideways,"_ Bobby answered. " _Chris Hanson."_

 _"The prosecutor?"_ I asked in surprise. _"He's involved?"_

 _"Our working theory is that Jocelyn somehow extorted him,"_ Alex explained.

 _"Into committing murder for her? Seriously? What kind of leverage does she have on the guy?"_

 _"Sleeping with underage prostitutes. Still,"_ Bobby emphasized with amazement. _"Apparently almost getting caught last fall wasn't enough to scare him straight, and Jocelyn must have known it, either with evidence or just a gut instinct."_

 _"Yeah, we're still not sure how she's getting information out there, but somehow she threatened to out him if he didn't help her. Which for a guy like him would mean a whole lot more than just losing his family."_

 _"Okay, so, what is it you want to search? His office? Because you have to know it's pretty tough to get a search warrant for a DA's office. And by tough, I mean damn near impossible."_

 _"I love your optimism,"_ Alex said with a smirk. _"No, we just want to scare the bejesus out of him. If we show him a warrant to search his home, he's going to start scrambling to figure out how to keep his wife in the dark."_

 _"If your theory is right, it's only a matter of time before his wife knows the whole, sordid story anyway,"_ I said as I pulled out a form for requesting a search warrant. " _You really think he killed that girl?"_

 _"Not personally, no, but we think he made it happen."_

 _"I'll see what I can do,"_ I agreed. " _It might take me an hour or so."_

 _"No problem. We're on our way back to prison to take another run at Elka. Have her cell tossed, put the squeeze on a little…"_

 _"Sounds like fun,"_ I said, amused by Alex's light-hearted description of visiting Riker's.

 _"Maybe, but not as much fun as we want to offer you,"_ she countered.

 _"Which is…"_

 _"Feel like having a chat with Daniel Edelman?"_ Bobby asked. " _We feel like he's the mule, even if he doesn't know it. Thought you might play a little hardball with him."_

So I did, after applying for their warrant.

I went in search of Mr. Edelman.

And they were right, it was kind of fun, mostly because I got to be the bad guy, and considering my mood over what happened to my friends last night, it was kind of cathartic.

 _"Come to offer a plea bargain?"_ he asked arrogantly when I found him in the coffee shop around the corner from his office. _"Because I typically like to meet with opposing counsel in a little more professional setting."_

 _"You mean like Rikers? I think the coffee shop is fine,"_ I said, taking a seat across from him.

 _"So you do have an offer."_

 _"Yes. One for you to do the right thing."_

 _"What are you talking about?"_

 _"Your client is using you, and if you aren't careful, you're going to find yourself disbarred."_

 _"What?"_ he asked, and his confusion seemed legitimate.

 _"I'm here out of professional courtesy, but if you blow me off and keep doing what you're doing, the next time I come to see you, I'll have a couple of detectives with me, ready to take you into custody."_

 _"Connie, I…"_

 _"Aiding and abetting, conspiracy, extortion,"_ I continued firmly. _"Is that what you want? To throw away your career and your freedom for a con artist like Jocelyn Moser?"_

 _"I haven't done anything,"_ he insisted.

 _"Okay. So you haven't let her use your cell phone. You haven't delivered any mail for her. You haven't passed along a message of any kind."_

 _"No, I…oh, um…"_

His face paled as his words trailed off, and I was proud of myself for getting him, because it was obvious that he would only need one more little nudge.

 _"I might believe you didn't know what you were doing when you did it, but now you know, so if you continue to help_ _ **her**_ _, then I can't help_ _ **you**_ _."_

 _"I made a call,"_ he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. _"I don't know if it's relevant, but it seemed odd to me."_

 _"A call to whom? For what?"_

 _"Another lawyer. She said she wanted me to get some advice on trial strategy."_

 _"She didn't think you could handle it?"_

 _"I'm not sure if I can talk about this. I mean, it's subject to privilege, right?"_

 _"Not if you're a party to her crimes."_

 _"Oh my God,"_ he moaned.

 _"Daniel, listen to me,"_ I said softly. _"Telling me what you said to another lawyer isn't violating her privilege, so just tell me about your part of the conversation."_

 _"I asked him if he was familiar with the original case, from last fall."_

 _"That's it?"_

 _"I said an appeal was pending."_

I sat back in my chair as I thought about his words, but I couldn't see how either sentence equated to arranging a hit.

 _"Who was the lawyer?"_

 _"Chris Hanson."_

 _"A New Jersey prosecutor? And that didn't set off any bells?"_

 _"It did, but I didn't see the harm in it."_

 _"So you just asked him if he was familiar with the case. Nothing else?"_

He just stared at me for a moment, and then he said, _"And I asked him about his wife."_

 _"You did what?"_

 _"I asked how she's doing, that's all."_

I finished my conversation with Daniel, and on my way out of the coffee shop - after telling him I expected to be called into chambers to discuss his withdrawal as Jocelyn's counsel - I called Alex.

 _"How'd the prison cell search go? Because on this end, it seems like your theory of blackmail is dead on."_

I filled her in on my discussion with Edelman, and then I went back to the office, or rather Mike's office, and as soon as I sat down, my phone rang.

 _"Lupo,"_ I answered, and I was grateful to hear Mike's chuckle.

 _"I can't get used to that,"_ he admitted. _"You'll always be Rubirosa to me."_

 _"How are you?"_ I asked him, sitting back in his chair and unable to stop the smile.

 _"Jennifer got discharged, so we're back at my place."_

 _"And your arm?"_

 _"I'll live. And now I'll have something in common with all of our detective friends. A gunshot scar._ "

 _"You're sounding awfully casual about this whole thing. I'm impressed."_

 _"What happened to me is nothing compared to what Jennifer and Lauren went through,"_ he responded, his voice lowered to a hushed tone that told me he didn't want his girlfriend to overhear.

 _"From what Lupo said, Jennifer got the worst of it. How's she doing?"_

 _"On the surface, she's great. But it's a front. It's bound to come out sooner or later."_

 _"Sooner would be better."_

 _"I know. So everything's okay at the office? Anything you need me for?"_

 _"The Gorens are working on making the Moser appeal irrelevant. I'm guessing they'll have something either today or tomorrow. Last I heard, they were heading over to talk to Chris Hanson, and I got Edelman to admit to making a call to him, at Jocelyn's behest."_

 _"Sounds like you don't need me at all,"_ he replied in amusement.

 _"Not today. But Mike, I'm here for you. You know that, right? For you and Jennifer, anything you need."_

 _"I know. Thanks, Connie."_

It warms my heart to see how far he's come. Not so long ago, Mike had a thing for me, and he resented Lupo, and he didn't consort with me or anyone, really, outside of work. Now he and I are such close friends, and he's in love, and he likes and respects Lupo…sometimes it just feels like all of the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place.

Except for trying to get pregnant.

And I know, it hasn't been that long, but it feels like it, and maybe it's because it's such a huge decision, and I'm still so scared about it even though I want it to happen. Lupo blames himself, I know. He's worried about his teenage marijuana habit.

 _"B says his cousin used to smoke it all the time, and now he has four kids,"_ he told me this morning before he went to work, his words accompanied by a hangdog expression, as though he expected me to berate him for things he did as a kid. And I guess he does expect that, since he's beating himself up about it.

 _"I don't want four,_ " I said playfully, grabbing onto his jacket and pulling him to me. " _But maybe two. And nothing you did when you were fifteen is going to keep that from happening, so stop being such a worry wart, okay?"_

 _"A worry wart?"_ he repeated, smiling as he brought his lips close to mine. _"Is that what I am?"_

Then he kissed me with inspiring enthusiasm, something that made my insides flutter and my knees weak.

It was so good, in fact, that just thinking about it now, nearly twelve hours later, those same sensations are easily recreated in my mind, making me _really_ wish I were with him right now.

 _A couple of hours with Cecilia, and then out to meet Lupo,_ I reminded myself. He's still working, and he said he'd text when he finishes, so that I can meet him at Steve-O's, and honestly, I can't wait to see him. Some days feel longer than others, and this one has felt like an eternity, and thinking about him, about his eyes and his cute smile, and his kisses…yeah, I miss him.

But that's not to say it won't be nice spending time with Cecilia, I don't mean it like that. After the day with Jeremy, she'll probably be ready for some female companionship, and most likely, I can help her do some of the things she can't do for herself, things she wouldn't do with Jeremy.

"Hey, you came!" Jeremy said enthusiastically when he opened the door. "Mulder said you might be by, but then I heard everyone was meeting at Steve-O's, so I wasn't sure."

He stepped back, inviting me inside, and I saw Cecilia sitting in the recliner in the living room.

"You made it out of the bedroom," I said with a smile. "That's progress."

"Mulder carried me out here, when he came home for lunch," she explained. "Although you know, my wrist doesn't feel that bad, so I can probably start using crutches."

"Don't rush it, or you'll make it worse," I said, my words coming nearly simultaneously with Jeremy's, who was saying something very similar. Cecilia laughed as I looked at the boy curiously, but he just shrugged.

"Liz preached to me about not letting her do too much," he said. "And hey, I'm not an idiot. I know how these things work."

"Uh huh. You probably have time to go home and shower and then make it to Steve-O's," I told him. "But your dad will be there, so no using that fake ID."

"Ha ha," he retorted with a grin. "But yeah, thanks."

He went over and kissed Cecilia on the cheek, and then he stopped next to me and gave me a quick peck, too, and then he was out the door.

"He's such a nice guy," Cecilia said once he was gone. "I can't believe he sat over here all day, just to keep me company."

"He didn't drive you crazy?" I asked, coming into the living room to sit down the couch.

"Only a little. It's actually really nice how Mulder's friends have automatically become my friends. I mean, I think it says a lot about what people think of him, don't you? Even you, you know? You're here, when you don't have to be."

She looked like she was about ready to cry, and I'm guessing she's exhausted and the events of Sunday night are catching up to her, so I offered, "Hey, how about a bath? Hot water, lots of bubbles…maybe a glass of wine?"

A couple of tears did fall then, but she smiled and nodded, saying, "That would be really nice."

It took me a little while to get everything ready, and then to help her get down the hall to the bathroom and into the tub, but once she was settled, with her casted leg wrapped and propped on the edge and the rest of her ensconced in the hot, steamy water, she sighed contentedly.

"I'm sorry. I almost had a breakdown on you."

"You're allowed," I said easily, handing her a glass of white. "I'll just let you relax for a bit. Shout if you need anything."

"You can stay," she offered. "Pour yourself a glass and have a seat."

She looked sheepish as she gestured towards the toilet lid, and it struck me that she, like Mulder, seems about ten years or so younger than her actual age. There's just an innocence about both of them, a sweetness that too many people lose as they move into adulthood.

"I don't care for wine, but I'd love the company," I agreed.

So I sat on the fluffy yellow lid cover, a leftover bit of décor from when this was Lauren's bathroom, and I chatted with Mulder's girlfriend about a variety of topics. It was almost like girls' night, only without the shots of tequila. And less sex talk. But still, I've missed hanging out with my friends, and it was nice sharing some girl talk, and I really like Cecilia.

"So are you thinking about taking the job with the DA's office?" I ventured after coming back from the kitchen with the bottle of wine so that I could refill her glass.

"You know about that?"

"Mike asked for my opinion before he made you the offer," I confessed. "But don't worry, I haven't told anyone."

"Oh. It's just, well, I haven't discussed it with Mulder. I was going to. That's why I called him Sunday night, from the car."

"To tell him about the offer?"

"Yes, and that I decided to take it. I wasn't sure at first, because I don't want to put pressure on Mulder, you know? I don't want him to think I'm taking it so that I can move here to be near him. That almost sounds a little stalkery," she said with a small smile. "I mean, it would be a plus for me, living closer to him, but the job itself makes me want to be here."

"I'm sure you've weighed the decision carefully."

"I have. But now, I don't know. I'm not sure when I can work again, or if Mr. Cutter will still want me. I can't…"

"He wants you," I interrupted. "We talked about it yesterday."

"But what if it's a few weeks?"

"He expected you to work out a notice in Boston anyway. And let's face it, he's wanted Mulder working for us practically since the day they met, and Mike feels like having you would be just as good," I assured her, then I smiled and said, "Better, even, because he understands what you say."

Cecilia laughed, but then came to Mulder's defense, and I like that.

"He's not so hard to understand," she said softly. "He just gets caught up in the moment, you know?"

"I know."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, keeping her eyes closed as she said, "I'm in love with him."

I smiled broadly, even though she still isn't looking at me, and then I said, "I know."

She cautiously opened one eye, and her face is flushed and in spite of the bruises mottling her skin, she just looks so sweet and pretty and happy, and I love that she and Mulder found each other, and that she obviously wants him as much as he wants her.

"And you're okay with that?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, I'm okay with that," I promised.

About twenty minutes later, we got her out of the tub and into pajamas and situated in Mulder's bed.

"You don't have to stay. I'm sure Mulder will be home soon," she said as I checked my cell phone. I had a missed text from Lupo, but it was only a few minutes old.

 _ **I'm done. We can meet at Steve-O's…or not.**_

I'm not sure why, but I took his words as suggestion, and suddenly that arousal from before, from the memory of his kiss, was rolling back through me, and as much as I've missed our friends, tonight I just want him.

And then it hit me, the timing…my breasts have been tender today, I've been mildly crampy, not to mention my lustful imagination.

"Are you sure?" I asked Cecilia as I began typing a response.

And then I heard the front door open, and Mulder called out, and Cecilia's whole face lit up at the sound of him coming down the hall.

"Never mind. You're sure," I said with a grin, so then I hit send on the text message.

 _ **Meet me at home. We're going to make a baby.**_

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Carolyn**_


	39. Chapter 39

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

"I know him."

Mike's voice was quiet, in comparison to the rest of the group, but it was his tone that caught my attention.

I've been chatting with Liz and Danny for the past several minutes and he's been talking with Lauren and Bernard. Our backs are kind of to each other, but my hand is clasped in his, and I still feel that connection with him that I've felt since the first day I laid eyes on him.

It's like we're two halves of the whole.

Cheesy, maybe, especially for me, but that's what we are.

I've known it since the day I met him. It's a shame I was in denial for so long, but now that I'm _out_ of denial, I'm going to appreciate every moment of what we have together.

Like earlier today. We went to see Cecilia's mom, Vanessa.

She's a pretentious, elitist bitch, but instead of being annoyed by her, Mike and I had fun doing the annoying.

" _I have no idea what you're talking about,_ " she stated primly, when I brought up Cecilia's name.

 _"Who, not what,"_ I corrected.

 _"She knows,"_ Mike said to me in a conspicuous, conspiratorial tone. " _She knows exactly who Cecilia is. I bet she even remembers her birthday."_

 _"Uh huh,"_ I agreed, appreciating the increasing ire on Vanessa's face. " _When December rolls around, I'm sure she's reliving that day almost thirty years ago."_

 _"Wondering what she's doing now…"_ Mike added.

 _"How she turned out,"_ I tossed in.

 _"Stop it! That's enough!"_ Vanessa shouted, and then after a second, she schooled her features and dropped her voice. _"You both need to leave right this minute, or I'll have you arrested."_

 _"We are the police,"_ I reminded her. _"And we're here investigating an attempted murder, so you can either answer our questions now, or we can take you back to the squad room and see how you feel about answering them there."_

 _"I don't know anything,"_ she insisted with venom. " _I don't know this person. I don't know about an attempted murder. I can't help you."_

 _"Hey, you know who might know something,"_ Mike whispered loudly to me. _"Judge Hastings."_

And boy, if we thought she was angry with us before…the mention of her husband's name had her going through the roof.

 _"If you so much as hint at the libelous crap that little bitch is saying about me, I'll have both your badges, and the NYPD will still be battling the lawsuit when your grandkids are old and gray! Do you get what I'm saying, Detectives?"_

 _"Huh,"_ Mike mused. _"I wonder which libelous crap she's referring to…her role in an attempted murder?"_

 _"No, it's that she has a daughter fathered by Giovanni Pirelli,"_ I said smugly, causing the outraged Vanessa Montgomery Hastings to summon her security staff to have us removed from the property.

 _"Well that was fun,"_ Mike said once we were back in the car.

 _"It was,"_ I agreed with a grin. _"Just like old times. It's scary, how good you are at getting under people's skin."_

 _"Me? I think you're the one who did it. And that Pirelli bombshell…perfectly timed."_

It was, too, because as far as we know, she's never admitted to anyone out loud that he's the father. Of course, she hasn't admitted in nearly thirty years that she's the girl's mother, so I guess that's no big surprise, but still…

 _"She didn't deny it?_ " Bobby said just a little bit ago, when we were filling him in over our first round of drinks. At that point, it was just the four of us, along with Mary and her temporary partner, Maddie. I'd eyeballed the young woman cautiously as we sat down, but Mary gave her the nod of approval. Impressive, really, to see the girl had apparently won over Mary enough to merit a Steve-O's invite. And on the first day, no less.

Regardless, if Mary trusts her to sit in on our conversations, then so do I, so Mike and I continued our recap.

" _She denied being her mother, but her reaction to his name was priceless,"_ Mike said. _"I thought she was going to blow a gasket."_

 _"She should really work on her poker face,"_ I remarked. _"Anyone worth their salt would've been sure to ask who Pirelli is."_

 _"Classic confession through overreaction,"_ Alex said. _"I love it. But what's the verdict? You think she's involved?"_

 _"She has enough goons on her payroll to pull it off,"_ I mused.

 _"But we haven't found a connection yet,"_ Mike said.

 _"And Pirelli has goons, too,"_ Bobby added.

 _"Pirelli couldn't care less about Cecilia,"_ I summarized. _"Good or bad. It's no skin off his nose that she exists, as long as she doesn't want his money."_

 _"Vanessa, on the other hand, is hyperventilating over potential scandal, especially with her husband newly appointed to the Court of Appeals,"_ Mike explained.

 _"So…it's her,"_ Alex said with a shrug.

 _"If it's anyone,"_ Bobby pointed out. " _There's still the possibility that it was an accident, right?"_

 _"Someone tried to run one of our friends off the road Sunday night,"_ Mary said quietly to Maddie in an effort to explain our dialogue.

 _"Someone did run her off the road,"_ Alex corrected. _"Off a bridge and into the river."_

 _"And you think her birth mother paid someone to do it?"_ Maddie questioned.

 _"I'm not sure,"_ I admitted on a sigh. _"But I think I'm going to have a lot of fun digging into her life and making her sweat."_

And I am because it really disgusts me how dismissive she is over her own flesh and blood. Family should be cherished.

And yeah, I'm sure I'm projecting, since I still have that looming task of clearing out the storage shed that contains my family's belongings.

But projecting in this case isn't a bad thing. Vanessa deserves to be knocked down a peg or two, even if it's only for being a despicable human being. And if it turns out she hired a guy to run Cecilia off the road, well…I'll be tickled shitless to be the one to slap on the cuffs.

About that time is when Lauren and Bernard arrived, so after everyone exchanged tighter-than-usual hugs, Lauren brought us up to speed on the IAB investigation.

 _"I should be cleared by tomorrow, I think,"_ she concluded.

 _"The Marshal Service has already closed the book on it,"_ Mary told her. " _And Maddie emailed our report to IAB before we left the office, so hopefully that'll help speed things along."_

 _"Thank you,_ " Lauren said with sincerity, and then she took a deep breath and a healthy sip of beer before saying, " _Either way, I'm back at work tomorrow._ _I can sit at my desk, if they don't want me back on the street, but another day at home is going to drive me crazy."_

 _"Wow, I'm not sure how to take that,"_ Bernard teased.

 _"I can guess,"_ Alex spoke up, catching Lauren's eye. " _Bernard is following your every move and asking you every five minutes if you're okay."_

 _"You sound like you're speaking from experience,"_ Bobby said, feigning hurt.

 _"I am,"_ Alex stated emphatically, and then she kissed him hard before turning back to Lauren and saying, " _So I'm right?"_

 _"I don't do that,"_ Bernard insisted, but then he bit back a smile as he looked at his wife and said, " _Are you okay?_ "

We all laughed, understanding Bernard's concern as well as Lauren's need to just get things back to normal, and I was glad to see her lean over to whisper something into Bernard's ear, something that made him smile fully.

I feel like I should be amazed by how well she's handling everything, and yet at the same time, she's an amazing person so it actually doesn't surprise me at all. She has that look about her, the look of both survivor and victor, and it seems that closing the book on Flowers for good has done wonders for her.

Although as I had the thought, her face clouded over, and I followed her gaze to find her watching as Mike and Jennifer walked into Steve-O's.

 _And there's the guilt_ , I decided. Over shooting Mike, and even worse, over causing Jennifer to be a victim of Flowers. As if that's even remotely Lauren's fault. And I'll admit it, looking at Jennifer…well, I'm sure I'd be feeling the same as Lauren because she most certainly bore the brunt of Flowers' attack. But still…it's misplaced guilt and if it lasts more than the minute it should take Jennifer to reassure then I might have to intervene.

Lauren got up and went to meet them when they were still halfway across the room.

 _"So Bernard, is she actually okay?"_ Mike asked once Lauren was out of earshot.

 _"Other than blaming herself for what happened to them, yeah,"_ he answered. " _Or at least, I think so."_

 _"Send her to Skoda,"_ I said to him, even though my eyes were still on Lauren as she gingerly hugged Jennifer and then spoke quietly to both of them.

" _An hour on his couch can cure anyone,"_ Mike added.

I saw Jennifer smile and set her hand on Lauren's arm reassuringly, and it was only when relief went through me that I realized I'd been tense about her response. I suppose feeling some resentment towards Lauren might've been a normal reaction, but fortunately that doesn't seem to be happening. As the three of them came to the table, I turned to Mike and smiled at him, ready to lighten the mood at the table.

 _"It's a good thing we're talking about Skoda because if you were referring to an hour on Olivet's couch…"_

Bobby barked out a laugh at my unexpected tease, and as I'd hoped, the jokes sprang up everywhere, and by the time John arrived, followed immediately by Danny and Liz, everyone was laughing.

 _"I see we have some catching up to do,"_ Liz remarked as she sat next to me. John squeezed in next to Mary, and Danny grabbed a chair, since his wife had taken the last one, and then he asked, _"I know Jeremy's coming, but what about Lupo and Connie? Should we pull over another table?"_

 _"No, I just got a text,_ " Bernard said. " _Looks like they're staying in tonight."_

 _"Newlyweds,"_ Mike scoffed jokingly.

 _"And that makes them different…how?"_ Mary asked him, and I noticed that she's holding John's hand, but she hasn't been making eye contact with him. And yeah, I know, it's really none of my business, but I'm a detective. I notice these things, and since I love them both, it has me wondering what she's hiding from him.

" _Clearly they're the only ones committed to upholding the standards,"_ Mike responded challengingly. _"I mean, no one's supposed to see newlyweds for the first six months."_

 _"And how long have you been married?"_ John replied leadingly.

Mike looked over at me in confusion, holding up his fingers as if he were trying to figure it out, but then Alex spoke up, saying, " _Years. They just didn't know it."_

 _"You're going to be the one to make that argument?"_ Liz asked with a grin.

 _"Yeah, you guys are going on a decade, aren't you?"_ Lauren said.

 _"I have no idea what you're talking about,"_ Bobby deadpanned, and then Danny brought up their minutes-long stares and how they finish each other's sentences, and Liz teased him, saying he's one to talk since he was completely clueless for what seems like forever.

 _"What'd I miss?"_ Jeremy asked when he finally arrived.

He's such a cute kid. Or man, I suppose. I think his birthday is this weekend. Not that twenty automatically makes him a man. I think he turned that corner a month or two ago, anyway. His dark hair is slightly damp, like he just showered, and it's starting to curl a little, like his father's. He's dressed nice, unlike so many young people these days, in Dockers and a button-down shirt.

" _Oh, the usual. It's like a high school cafeteria around here,"_ Cutter said as he shook Jeremy's hand. The boy was making the rounds, greeting everyone around the table, until he got to Maddie, and then it was almost comical, because he suddenly developed a stutter.

 _"Hi, I'm…I'm…I'm Je…"_

 _"Jeremy,"_ Mary finished for him. _"And this is Inspector Payne."_

 _"Maddie,"_ the young woman corrected, smiling as Jeremy continued shaking her hand.

 _"Sit down before you fall down, J-man,"_ Bernard said on a chuckle, pointing out the chair Danny had brought over earlier.

 _"So how's Cecilia?"_ Liz asked, clearly trying to save her stepson from embarrassing himself any further, although I suppose I can't blame him. Maddie's a beautiful woman, and surely he wasn't expecting anyone other than the middle-aged friends of his parents.

The words from Liz brought him around, and he was finally able to take his eyes off Maddie and once again speak in actual words, so the awkward moment was over, and after a few minutes of group discussion, we gradually began to talk in smaller circles.

That's when Liz started telling me about Aaron assisting her with an autopsy this afternoon, and before I could express how impressed I am, I heard Mike's remark, him saying _I know him_ and I had to excuse myself from talking with them so that I could turn around and see what has him slightly distressed during this up-til-now extremely relaxing debriefing.

It's Lauren, who's showing Mike her cell phone.

"Mulder sent this to me today," she explained.

"He forgot she's not working," Bernard added.

"Eames would've sent it to me, even if Mulder hadn't," she pointed out reasonably. "Anyway, it's from the social media search he and Cecilia created. So you know this guy? Because Eames sent it through a facial recognition program, but nothing popped as of a couple of hours ago."

I glanced down at the phone to see a YouTube video playing, two teenage boys yukking it up for the camera which is undoubtedly held by a third, equally intoxicated youth. In the background, there's a black SUV, and I stared harder, waiting to see who it is that Mike recognizes. At around the one-minute mark, a man got into it.

"Oh," I remarked with chagrin, because I recognize him, too, and if this is capturing what I think it's capturing, then that's not good news for Kevin Shaw. "This is from the night of the murder?"

"Yes," Mike answered evenly, catching my gaze.

"Who is it?" Lauren pressed, surely anxious to put a name to the potential killer.

"Bryan Dennison," Mike said after staring at me for another beat. "Shaw's number two."

"His own lieutenant set him up for murder?" Bernard questioned.

"Looks like it. I guess now the question is why."

"Hopefully it isn't part of a mutiny," I voiced, knowing that's part of what's bothering Mike. Having one man try to screw over another is one thing, but if it was done in an attempt to shake up the hierarchy, then depending on how deep it goes, it could spell trouble for not just Shaw, but O'Connor, too.

"If you want to take this case back, I'm sure Ross won't care," Lauren offered, even though I know it must be killing her to offer. No detective ever wants to give up a case, especially once so much time has been put in.

I'm sure Mike is tempted, but he won't do it. After all of his worry over having people treat him differently with the knowledge of his heritage, this time it's definitely a factor, and this is one case he shouldn't be part of.

He squeezed my hand and then gave Lauren a nod and said, "No, I trust you to handle it. Just watch your back. If it's a power play, it could get ugly."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Alex** _


	40. Chapter 40

**Alex POV**

* * *

I'm not sure what time it is, but it doesn't matter.

Because I'm in bed, and Bobby's next to me, and his never-still fingers are working their way over every inch of my skin.

It's pure bliss.

We came straight here when we got home from Steve-O's, so I suppose I could guess at the time, but I honestly don't care, as long as the alarm clock or our cell phones don't interrupt us any time soon.

Because God, is he ever good at this.

"Who would've thought it?" he murmured, his lips against my skin, and I had to bite back a smile.

This is something I should've guessed years before I was ever presented with the facts. And I suppose I probably did have an inkling, on the rare occasions I let my mind travel this far, but still…the reality is so sweet and endearing. So…Bobby.

The fact that he likes to talk while we're making love.

Sometimes I ban him from saying anything about a case, and I've certainly placed our boss' name on the taboo list, but more often than not, I let him do what he does best.

Multi-task.

That brain of his goes in all kinds of directions, and yet I also know he's still with me. And his body is definitely with me.

So instead of pointing out that his mouth should be busy with other things - since, as I mentioned, he's quite good at making the most of his talented lips - I leisurely ran my fingers through his hair as he moved his focus to the patch of skin between my breasts.

"Thought what?"

It was another moment before he answered, so I suppose he did let himself get a bit distracted in the most pleasurable of ways, and then he paused, looking up at me with that mischievous half-grin, the one that wreaks havoc on my system on a regular basis, and then he said, "We're the normal ones."

I quirked an eyebrow at him, and he smiled more fully, easing his body completely over mine so that his forearms are on either side of my head, and I can feel every inch of him against me, and the anticipation of having him inside of me is about to kill me, but at the same time, I can't let this moment pass.

He's enjoying it too much. And I'm enjoying him enjoying it too much.

"Well, it's not a surprise that you're normal," he continued. "But me…me being normal is actually so _ab_ normal that maybe it's not normal after all."

"It's not normal for you to be normal?" I questioned succinctly, matching his smile and then meeting his lips as he leaned closer to kiss me.

I got lost in it for a moment.

Two or three moments, actually, because let's face it. I've wanted him for almost ten years, and I've only had him for nine months.

I still have some catching up to do.

Not to mention the fact that in all my not-so-worldly but not nonexistent experience, his exceptional detective skills are matched only by his prowess in the bedroom.

So we spent some time kissing, and after a while, when he shifted his mouth around to my ear, he said quietly, "No one's trying to kill us."

And yeah, so he has a point. He's _not_ normal, because who says something like that during foreplay?

Just Bobby.

And I love it.

"That's true," I agreed.

"John and Mary…possibly Cecilia. Up until yesterday, Lauren. Jennifer and Mike last night…"

"Uh huh."

"But not us. And we're not in the middle of a crisis, either," he continued. "Mike and Carolyn, with the Irish shake-up. Ross, putting out IAB fires."

I hummed my agreement again, since now he's putting more effort into both the conversation _and_ the thing he's doing to my ear, and I'm tingling absolutely everywhere, and maybe he's great at multi-tasking, but I'm starting to lose my focus.

"No big life changes," he added, and then he didn't say more, and as his words made their way past my lustful haze, I finally asked, "Jeremy?"

Bobby chuckled, the sound resonating through the quiet room, and I love _that_ almost as much as I love what he's doing to me.

 _He's happy_ , I thought with pleasure. Honestly, truly happy.

"Well, I didn't mean him, but you're right. It's love at first sight for him with that marshal, isn't it?"

"I wasn't sure if he was going to speak in complete sentences after he laid eyes on her."

"Kind of like me, with you."

It was my turn to laugh, and he pulled back to look at me quizzically.

"What?" he asked in amusement.

"Don't even try it. You've never had a problem stringing words together around me. I mean, look at us now."

To emphasize our situation, I ran my hands over his butt, pulling him even more firmly against me, and he got that playful look again as he leaned slightly to one side and then covered my breast with his hand.

"I'm looking at us," he said with a grin. "And just because I like to talk through distraction doesn't make me any less enamored."

Then as he continued his ministrations, he kissed me, alternating words with the onslaught of lips and tongue.

"Smitten. Captivated. Consumed."

The last word was said with conviction in a husky voice that told me he was reaching his breaking point, sending a fresh flood of arousal through me, and then he captured my lips again, only with much more purpose, and he pushed into me with a sense of urgency, and even though we've done this hundreds of times, it still gets me…it still feels so damn good.

All thoughts of our friends and normalcy and whatever else he was going to say were completely lost to me as I got caught up in the intimacy of the moment.

It was much later, after we finished and we were breathing heavily, sprawled on the bed, and his fingers once again dancing over my skin, that we finally finished our conversation.

"You weren't talking about Jeremy," I said.

"No. I meant Lupo and Connie."

"What's going on with them?"

"You mean you don't know?" he asked me, propping his head up on his hand as he turned on his side to look at me, and then he flashed me a look of feigned disappointment. "And here I thought you were a good detective."

"I'm the best detective you know," I countered playfully. "I'm better than you."

"Better than me?" he repeated dubiously, and then he broke into a grin and said, "Yeah, you are. I mean, you pegged Hanson today."

Chris Hanson, the New Jersey DA who can't keep his pants zipped.

 _"What are you guys doing here?"_ he asked nervously when we entered his Essex County office. He quickly crossed the room and closed the door, and then stood glaring at us, his hands on his hips.

His defensive posture didn't hide the beads of sweat that began breaking out across his forehead.

 _"Paulina Trinoskey,"_ I said, jumping right in since he was clearly on edge.

" _I don't know who that is,"_ he answered quickly.

 _"Sure you do,"_ Bobby insisted, opening the file folder in his hands and pulling out a photo of the dead girl.

Hanson looked everywhere except at the picture.

 _"I'm telling you, I don't know her. I'm not into that life anymore."_

 _"The life. You mean screwing young girls?"_ I posed.

 _"Hey, that was a one-time thing! I told you that last year!"_

 _"My bad,"_ I relented facetiously. " _So wait, does one time cover the dozens of time you slept with eighteen year old Felcia Dudek?"_

 _"This is harassment, Detectives. I haven't done anything wrong. I…"_

" _Took a phone call from Daniel Edelman, Jocelyn's lawyer,"_ I finished, pleased to have that new information supplied by Connie.

 _"Attorneys talk to each other,"_ he answered snidely.

 _"We pulled Paulina's cell records,"_ Bobby stated quietly, his gaze focused intently on the lawyer's face, trying to read his reaction. I watched his hands instead. A lot can be learned by watching someone's hands, and Hanson didn't disappoint. His fingers were twitchy, and he touched his wedding band a few times, before shoving his hands in his pockets.

 _"You called her the day before she was killed,"_ I said. That part was fact, and then I gave it my best shot at filling in the blanks. I figured Bobby would know which of my guesses were hits and which were misses.

 _"You asked her to meet you, to talk about Jocelyn's appeal. You pretended to be concerned about her. You gave her Detective Goren's card."_

 _On target so far_ , I thought.

" _And then you made her have sex with you. I mean, she owed you, right? For giving her the heads up that she might be on Jocelyn's radar, considering she was one of the original good luck girls."_

 _"I didn't…that's not how it…"_

 _"Don't forget, we have your DNA in the system,"_ Bobby reminded him.

And it's true, we do, but we didn't find any trace DNA on Paulina's body, so we have nothing to match it up with, but Hanson doesn't know that, and he immediately fell silent.

 _"And after you finished,"_ I continued. " _You injected her with potassium._ "

Up to that point, we'd been under the assumption that Hanson wouldn't have done the murder himself, so it was a leap to suggest that he's the one with the needle, but I felt good about it. He's currently being burned by a blackmailer, so why would he give another person power over him?

" _You're off base, Detective,"_ he said weakly, and out came his hands again, twisting his wedding ring around and around.

It makes me wonder which part he thinks his wife will be most upset about - sleeping with teenagers or killing one of them.

 _"No, she isn't,"_ Bobby said. " _And just so you know, two other detectives are on their way to your house as we speak, preparing to serve a search warrant. Anything we find there will open the door for another warrant for your office. And of course, your wife will have to be notified of the charges being investigated…"_

 _"Stop, just…stop,"_ he said sharply. _"You can't…this isn't…Jocelyn Moser threatened me! I had to do it!"_

Which means Chris Hanson is currently in lock up. He lawyered up after his spontaneous confession, but once we have a sit-down with him tomorrow, Jocelyn's appeal will be a thing of the past.

In fact, we'll be able to add more charges for blackmail and facilitation of murder.

"I didn't say anything to Hanson that you hadn't already figured out," I replied to Bobby, deflecting his compliment. I don't need the credit for anything, although I do love when he looks at me as he's doing now. Of course, I don't think his expression has anything to do with my investigative abilities.

"I never considered he had the guts to actually kill someone," he countered. "He seems like the type who doesn't want to get his hands dirty."

"He's already been looking over his shoulder, and that's just to save his marriage. I don't picture him putting his freedom in someone else's hands, by farming out the murder. He had access to all of the details of the last case, so it wasn't much trouble for him to make it seem like a copycat, only I guess he didn't realize how much that narrowed our suspect pool."

"He didn't realize he was dealing with the smartest detective in New York."

Bobby's fingers, the ones that have been active this whole time, moved up and into my hair, so I eased closer, snuggling against him as I let out a sigh.

"Tired?" he asked.

I still have no idea what time it is, but I like that. It makes it feel like the world doesn't exist outside of this bed, so it's just me and Bobby.

I hummed my answer, and then I thought for a moment about what he said, about something going on with Connie and Lupo.

"They're trying to get pregnant," I said as the idea suddenly hit me.

"See, you _are_ good," he answered, dropping a kiss on my head and then wrapping his arms tightly around me.

"It's a guess. You think that because…why? They didn't want to come to Steve-O's tonight? Lupo was up all night last night, maybe he's just tired."

"Half the people at Steve-O's were up all night," he pointed out. "And how many times has Lupo pulled an all-nighter, and yet when have you ever known him to turn down a beer?"

"True," I mused.

"And Connie hasn't been drinking the last few times we've gotten together."

"Huh," I responded, deciding maybe there's merit to his observation. Who am I kidding? Of course there's merit to it. He can give me credit all he wants, he's still the smartest person I know. "Well, good for them. Sounds stressful, though."

"Having a baby?"

"Making a baby," I corrected, smiling against his chest. "Having to have sex all the time…it must be exhausting."

He chuckled, and I could feel the rumble throughout my body, and I love this closeness with him, this feeling of complete and utter contentment.

"Yeah, you're right. It sounds like torture."

"Exactly."

"Hey, Alex?"

"Hmm?"

"Wanna do it again?"

His words were said playfully, but with his body draped over mine, there's no hiding the fact that the possibility exists.

"How old _are_ you?" I teased as I turned in his arms. "Weren't you just trying to call yourself normal a little while ago? Because I have to tell you, Bobby. This isn't normal."

"But you like it?" he asked, clearly already knowing the answer as he brought his lips to mine for a stirring kiss.

"I love it," I answered, leaning into him to encourage him onto his back and then I moved over top of him.

"Me, too," he said. He let out a groan of pleasure as I sank down onto him, and then he flashed me a smile and said, "Who the hell wants to be normal anyway?"

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Ross**_


	41. Chapter 41

**Ross POV**

* * *

"You think he'll give her up?"

"I think if he wants a chance to see his kids graduate college, he'll tell us everything we need to know," Connie answered.

I'm in the observation room, along with the ADA and the Gorens. Chris Hanson is in the interrogation room, waiting for his attorney to arrive.

I don't _need_ to be here, watching as two of my best detectives put the kibosh on Jocelyn Moser's appeal, but I want to be here.

Not only is it entertaining, but it's gratifying as well, and I don't have a lot going on in my office at the moment.

Not work, anyway. I did have a very interesting conversation, though.

It's Wednesday, and I arrived at work a few hours ago and made my rounds through Major Case, getting up to speed on the various cases being handled by my detectives.

I also had news for Detective Bernard. _Lauren_ Bernard. See? I'm learning how to embrace change.

 _"You're good to go,"_ I told her.

 _"I'm cleared already?"_ she asked in surprise.

 _"You thought it would take longer?"_

 _"No, but…well, yes,"_ she admitted. _"I know I didn't do anything wrong, but I expected there to be a whole lot more bureaucratic red tape, especially after that blurb on the news last night."_

 _"Anyone who saw the scene couldn't possibly take more than two minutes to clear you,_ " I stated. " _And IAB saw the scene. It was a good shoot."_

She nodded solemnly, her eyes focused on the floor, and I nudged her shoulder until she looked at me and then I added, " _It was a damn good shoot. And I have a press release going out this afternoon to that effect."_

 _"Thank you, Chief. I appreciate that."_

 _"You don't need to thank me. In fact, if I could promote you, I would. Soon, though, okay?"_

 _"Chief…"_

 _"Detective,"_ I interrupted. _"You took an impossible situation and turned it around, not only saving your own life, but that of a federal officer and a district attorney. It's the stuff careers are made of. Be proud of yourself, and don't let the biased media get you down."_

She was, I could tell, because last night she seemed pretty much at ease with her situation.

But the new report _was_ ugly. It had prompted rhetoric from Liz that would make a biker blush, and it was all I could do to keep her from calling the television station to give the reporter a piece of her mind.

 _"Okay,"_ Lauren said, holding my gaze and seeming to get her feet back underneath her. _"Okay, so as soon as Eames gets here, we're going to Hell's Kitchen to talk to Kevin Shaw and Bryan Dennison. We're hoping to be able to close this case soon, without too much fallout."_

 _"I know you will,"_ I said with confidence, and then I patted her on the arm and moved onto the next pair of detectives.

But that wasn't the interesting discussion, although it _is_ good news, and I'm glad to be a part of the process that has her back at work so quickly.

Instead, it was the conversation with Jeremy that's still going through my mind. He was waiting for me outside of my office, when I got upstairs this morning.

 _"Can we talk?"_ he asked me hesitantly.

 _"Of course,"_ I agreed instantly, ushering him inside the room. I didn't see him at home this morning because he spent the night at Mulder's. _"Did you guys have fun last night? Wasn't it a little weird, just the three of you?"_

Because Aaron _did_ come home last night. He had a date with a girl he met last weekend, and he made it home well before curfew. Jeremy went to Steve-O's with me and Liz, and afterwards, he said he was heading to Mulder's, to hang with him and Cecilia.

" _Okay, first I need to come clean,"_ he said, once we were behind closed doors.

My heart sank at his words because he's been doing so well lately. I mean, it's been two months since Johns Hopkins, and other than his forays into police work, and his minor infractions with the fake ID, he's basically kept his nose clean.

 _"Okay,"_ I answered, trying to remain impassive.

 _"I didn't go to Mulder's after I left Steve-O's. I mean, that was the plan. It wasn't a lie when I said it. But then…well, on my way to the subway station, I ran into Maddie."_

It took me a few seconds to remember who the hell Maddie is, and then I silently ridiculed myself for needing the time, because throughout the evening at Steve-O's, it was obvious that he was into her.

 _"Inspector Payne,"_ I amended, hoping to remind him that she's a grown woman, a government employee.

 _And he's basically twenty_ , _and what the hell difference does it make if she works for the federal government,_ the little voice in my head said, sounding a whole lot like Liz.

 _"Right,"_ he said with a smile, and then he quickly added, " _And I probably should've texted you when she invited me back to her place, but I figured it would just be for a drink or something, and then I'd still go to Mulder's, and…"_

 _"Wait, so you didn't go to his place at all? You spent the night with the inspector?"_

 _"Maddie,"_ he stated, and again, the smile was playing at the edge of his lips, and part of me wants to high-five him and yet the protective side of me has to worry about a woman who takes a man home with her within hours of meeting him.

But I kept my mouth shut and instead just surveyed his face, and even though he looks happy and maybe a little impressed with himself, he also looks…something else.

Worried.

And that got _me_ worried.

 _"Please tell me you practiced safe sex,"_ I said, and then I started to wonder why he's having the conversation with me instead of his brother, or even Liz for that matter, since the two of them have had a similar discussion before.

 _"Um…that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Well, I mean, I wanted to tell you where I was, but I also…God, this is awkward."_

 _"Since when have you had trouble talking about sex? And you didn't answer my question."_

So then he told me that he and Maddie didn't actually have sex, even though they both wanted to, because apparently only his _mind_ was on board. Not his body.

It's not a conversation I imagined myself having.

Discussing erectile dysfunction with my son.

 _"It's happened to you, right? I mean, maybe just once or twice, but it has happened, hasn't it?"_ he asked. " _Because you know, I've only been having sex for a few years, but you…"_

He trailed off, looking at me with hope, and I was tempted to lie, to make him feel better, but if he sees through it, it'll be a breach of hard-fought trust, and I can't let that happen.

 _"No,"_ I answered, wishing desperately that Liz were here.

 _"Oh my God,"_ he moaned, putting his head in his hands.

 _"But that's not to say it's not normal,"_ I added quickly.

 _"Normal? How could it possibly be normal? I mean, did you see her? She's blistering hot, and she's smart, and I actually like talking to her, and when she kissed me…I don't know, it was like…like…we couldn't get to it fast enough, but then all of a sudden, it just wasn't happening."_

 _"But you still spent the night with her,"_ I said, still trying to wrap my brain around the situation.

 _"Yeah,"_ he answered, finally looking me in the eye again. _"I started to leave, but she said that sex isn't why she invited me over."_

I feel like I need clarification. I guess I don't understand kids these days. I mean, it was after eleven when we left the bar. She asked him back to her place, and it wasn't for sex?

 _"So I stayed,"_ he went on. _"And we talked, and we had a couple of beers, and we watched some TV. And we made out a little more."_

 _"So you had a good time,"_ I stated.

 _"Well, yeah. I really like her. But I can't stop thinking about why I couldn't, because I want to. I really want to. I mean, something has to be wrong with me, right?"_

Once again, I'm hit with the boy and man conundrum. One second he's talking about wanting to sleep with the girl he just met yesterday, and the next second he's looking to me for reassurance and advice.

Fortunately for me, I know what to say because it finally hit me a second ago. It's the exact reason why Liz told Jeremy a few weeks ago to just go out and get laid, although apparently he never did.

 _"You haven't had sex since Kelly. Since the night she was murdered,"_ I said quietly. _"You really think that's not playing a part in this? That your subconscious isn't hanging on to that memory, and equating sex with the worst night of your life?"_

I waited while he sat back and mulled over my words, and I considered suggesting he set up another appointment with Skoda.

 _"You're right,"_ he said with a nod. _"I can't believe I didn't consider that possibility."_

 _"You should talk about it with…"_

 _"I will,"_ he interrupted. _"I'm meeting her for lunch today, so I'm going to tell her about what happened. I mean, like Liz said, if a girl can't handle my past, then she shouldn't be part of my future, right?"_

 _"That's true,"_ I answered, even though I'd been about to say Skoda, not Maddie.

 _"And maybe once I tell her, it won't be in the recesses of my mind anymore, and then maybe I'll be able to…you know. Safe sex and all,"_ he finished with a grin, and then he hopped up from the chair and said, _"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate the chat. And again, I'm sorry about last night. Won't happen again, I promise."_

 _"You're a grown up,"_ I said easily. _"Just don't leave us hanging if we expect you home."_

 _"Gotcha. Oh, hey, and Dad…don't say anything to anybody about this, okay? I mean, Liz is fine, but if A ever found out…"_

 _"I won't say a word,"_ I promised, and then I told him conspiratorially, _"But just between you and me, your brother was home well before curfew last night. I don't think he has any bragging to do today, either."_

Not the same thing, I know, but still…it made him smile.

I was glad that I made him happy again, finding the possible reason behind his issue, but at the same time it makes me think that he does need a few more sessions with Skoda. He seems to have bounced back so easily after everything, but clearly there are some lingering issues.

"Show time," Alex said, bringing me back to the here and now to find Hanson's attorney taking a seat next to her client, and the Gorens leaving the room.

"I'll wait for my cue," Connie said after them, and then she turned to me and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Me? Sure. Why?"

"You just seemed like you were in another world for a few minutes there," she answered, her focus already shifting to the adjoining room.

"I'm good, thanks," I assured her. "Hey, how's Mike doing? Is he back at work?"

"Yes, but Jack has him chained to his desk for today," she said, flashing me a look of amusement. "He's loving that."

"I'm sure he is," I said on a chuckle.

 **"So nice to see you again, Mr. Hanson,"** Alex said, her voice coming in clearly through the speaker.

 **"Save the smug niceties, Detective,** " he grumbled.

 **"Chris, let me talk,"** the lawyer directed, and then she looked at Bobby, and even I could tell she was trying to make a connection with him, possibly garner a little bit of sympathy. **"My client was in an impossible situation. He didn't have a choice in the matter."**

 **"He chose to frequent thousand dollar an hour hookers,"** Alex said sharply to get the woman's attention. " **No one made him bang teenaged girls. If you want to talk about impossible situations, those girls…"**

" **We're not talking about the girls,"** the lawyer interrupted, once again looking to Bobby.

"What does she think she's going to get from him?" I mused.

"I'm not sure, but whatever it is, she's not going to get it," Connie mumbled.

" **Sure we are,"** Bobby said, speaking up for the first time during this interrogation, and as he said the words, he strode towards the table and then leaned over it in an intimidating fashion. **"We're talking about Paulina, isn't that right, Chris? That poor girl never hurt anyone. She just wanted to stay in this country."**

 **"Right, I know!"** Hanson yelled. **"And Jocelyn made her work for it. She's the one who took advantage."**

 **"And you're the one who killed her,"** Bobby finished.

" **Chris isn't admitting anything at this point,** " his lawyer said, seemingly befuddled by the fact that Bobby wasn't falling at her feet, after her use of feminine wiles.

" **He already did, yesterday,"** Alex pointed out. " **You aren't getting that statement back."**

They battled back and forth, Alex and the lawyer, while Hanson remained mute and Bobby stood back, taking in the scene.

 _He's analyzing, waiting for the right in_ , I thought.

It's funny to think back now, on how much I distrusted him when I first arrived at Major Case. Hell, I distrusted him up until only about six months ago.

But my first days on the job, I tried to get Alex on my side. I thought she was sensible and smart and that she'd be a good right-hand man.

I was completely clueless that she was in love with him.

I can remember standing outside this very interrogation room, and saying to her, _"I appreciate your loyalty, but your partner has a rep for overthinking."_

 _"Does he?"_ she replied enigmatically, a small smile playing on her lips.

 _I should've known right then_ , I thought with an internal chuckle.

" **Let's cut the crap, Chris. You killed Paulina. You did it because Jocelyn asked you to do it. If you go on the record to that fact, and if you're willing to testify, I can get a DA in here right now who'll sign off on murder two, fifteen to twenty-five."**

 **"Fifteen years?"** Chris shouted.

 **"To twenty-five,"** Alex amended. " **Which is an age Paulina Trinoskey will never see because of you, so I think it's a pretty sweet deal."**

 **"It is,"** Bobby agreed firmly. **"Without it, we're pushing for murder one, twenty-five to life, and I'm not in the mood to play games with you, so the deal's only good for the next two minutes."**

 **"I don't see a DA here to agree to that deal!"** the lawyer yelled, clearly rattled by her client's predicament.

"Keep your fingers crossed," Connie said to me as she slipped out of the room.

But I don't have to. It's a done deal, I can tell, and not just because it's a good deal but because the Gorens worked the case to the point that it's Hanson's only real choice.

I watched for a moment longer, and then I went to get myself a cup of coffee.

"You didn't stay for the whole thing," Alex remarked as she and Bobby entered the break room.

"He took the deal," I answered with a shrug and a smile. "One more bad guy off the street, and Jocelyn will spend the rest of her days behind bars. I'd say it's a good day."

"We gave him a week to get his affairs in order," Bobby told me.

"So he's still a free man?"

"For seven days," Alex said. "He's a DA, which means Essex County is going to thank us for allowing him time to pass off cases, and bring his colleagues up to speed."

"So the week's leeway is actually politically smart," Bobby summed up.

"Besides, he's got little kids," Alex added.

I stood for a moment, just staring at both of them, and then I said, "So Bobby's concerned about politics and Alex is sympathizing with the suspect…what the hell happened to you two?"

My remark was meant to be funny, of course, so I was glad when Bobby laughed.

"We trade roles from time to time," Alex said smartly, her smirk firmly in place.

"Well, try not to do it too often," I teased. "You throw me off."

"Duly noted, Chief," Bobby said, "So do you have something else for us?"

"You finished the case five minutes ago, and you're asking for another one?"

"Well…yeah," he said with a shrug.

"Nothing that I know of, but you'll be up next, I promise."

Technically they aren't up next. Lupo and Bernard are. But skipping them right now isn't a bad idea, since Bernard has had so much going on at home lately. I'd wager that last night was his first full night of sleep since Flowers escaped prison, and that's assuming Lauren isn't having any issues moving past what happened Monday night.

I left the Gorens in the breakroom and headed back into the squad room, where I ran into Mike and Carolyn.

"Any new news?" I asked them.

"Well, we can't get a warrant for Vanessa's finances," Mike said in frustration. "Not enough cause."

"Thinking she might have done it doesn't mean anything, you know that," Carolyn soothed, then she said to me, "We're going back to have another chat with her, this time at her home."

Mike nodded and then grinned when Carolyn added, "But we'll wait until this evening."

"You mean after court is out of session?" I asked, picking up on her meaning.

"Turning up the heat only works if the person is in danger of getting burned," she stated.

"And trust me, boss. We're going to start a bonfire," Mike said.

"A moderate, well-contained bonfire," I suggested. "We don't need a judge getting pissed at Major Case."

"I want her to admit it, Chief," Carolyn said quietly. "Whether or not she's behind what happened on the bridge, I want her to acknowledge that she's Cecilia's mother."

I can understand that.

"Just…tread lightly."

"Of course," Mike agreed, and as I walked away, I heard him add, "And we'll carry big sticks, too."

I paused for a split second, tempted to comment on his mixed metaphor, but then I just continued towards the elevator without another word.

I don't want to challenge his big stick remark, even jokingly, and then have it taken the wrong way. They can use all the sticks they want with Vanessa. She doesn't deserve any special treatment anyway.

And as always, the bottom line is that I trust my detectives to take care of whatever needs to be done to find the guilty parties.

Besides, if it turns out that an appeals court judge is mad at us, so what?

I went back upstairs and once again, found a visitor waiting for me, one that had me smiling from ear to ear.

"How come you're so happy?" my wife asked me.

"Because you're here," I answered succinctly, pulling her into the office with me and then wrapping my arms around her. I held her for a moment, and then it hit me that she very rarely comes to my office in the middle of the day. "Unless…is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine," she answered. "Although I wish I could say I came strictly for personal reasons."

I relaxed my hold, but she kept her arms tightly around me, her face in the crook of my neck, and she said, "We can talk like this."

I chuckled, and ran my hands over her back as she continued, "I just brought over a file, a case I think might need a second look."

"Okay. Any particular reason?"

"On-scene officers thought suicide, but I'm skeptical. I'm listing cause as pending investigation."

She continued going through the details with me, all while the two of us stood in a close embrace in the middle of my office, and once she was finished talking shop, she finally let go.

"We should do business like that more often," she said, running her hand over my cheek. "It takes the stress away."

"You've had a stressful day?"

"No more than usual," she said on a shrug. "Aaron's doing great, though. He's a natural with a scalpel."

"By the time he gets to medical school, you'll have him so far ahead of the curve, it'll be a cake walk for him."

"That's the idea," she said with a smile. "So everything's okay on this end?"

"Yeah, um…Jeremy came to see me this morning."

Since he said I could tell her about what happened with him last night, I filled her in, grateful for the second opinion on whether or not I handled the situation correctly.

Of course, Liz had more questions. Specific, doctor-type questions.

"I don't know," I said in answer to her fourth interrogative, and I'm starting to feel like I totally blew it. "I'm thinking we should schedule him some more time with Skoda. I mean, I tried to play it off as no big deal, but at twenty, having that kind of issue…"

A knock on the door had us pausing our conversation, and after I called out _come in_ , Jeremy poked his head into the room.

"Hey, Dad…oh, Liz! Hi!" he said enthusiastically, moving to stand fully in the doorway. "I didn't know you were…wait, Dad, did you call her over here to talk about…you know…"

"I came on business," Liz answered. "But he did tell me what happened. So are you…"

"It's not a problem," he interrupted.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said.

"She's right," I added. "But some time with Dr. Skoda might…"

"Dad, I'm saying…it's _really_ not a problem," he interjected again.

"But..." I began, and then it hit me, his almost too-happy expression and his hair that's not quite as neat as it was this morning, and the fact that he was met Maddie for lunch.

As I stared at him, he broke into an even bigger grin and nodded his head, and then said, "Anyway, I just didn't want you to worry. And thanks for the chat this morning. You hit the nail on the head."

With that, he was gone again, and Liz just sat there and stared at me in confusion. I guess I didn't mention the part where Jeremy and Maddie had a lunch date. Although how was I supposed to know it was that kind of date?

"Is he saying what I think he's saying?" Liz asked after a moment.

"Yeah, it seems our son is sleeping with a United States Marshal. So much for keeping him reined in on police work."

Although in spite of my remark, I'm happy for him, because he's happy. And he's gotten over the hump, so to speak, even if this thing with Maddie is only temporary.

"So the girl from last night, huh?" Liz mused. "I think I need to call Mary and find out a little more about her."

"You mean like why is she sleeping with a guy she just met?"

"Same reason he's sleeping with a woman he just met, I imagine," she replied drolly, and then my cell phone rang, interrupting any response I may have had, which is probably a good thing.

"Chief Ross," I answered.

"Chief, it's Detective Bernard," Lauren said, her tone and verbiage telling me right away that something's not right. "I'm sorry to bother you, but we need IAB out here."

"IAB? What happened? You're in Hell's Kitchen, right?"

"Yes, sir. We came out to talk to Kevin Shaw," she said, and then she sighed heavily before adding, "And I'm really sorry, but I'm the subject of another officer involved shooting."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: John**_


	42. Chapter 42

**John POV**

* * *

"I can't take it anymore. I'm done."

Mary's words were said empathically, a tone that brooked no argument. Not that I'd give her one.

"Okay," I answered calmly.

"I mean it," she threatened.

I held her gaze as she stood across the kitchen from me, her blue eyes blazing and her hands on her hips, and I just nodded slightly, shrugging as I did, and then I kept staring.

She reached behind her and pulled the hairband from her ponytail, letting the long, blonde strands spill onto her shoulders, and as she rubbed her hand over the back of her scalp, shaking her hair to offer it relief from its constraints, my arousal level began to climb.

I should probably be psychoanalyzed over why I get turned on when she's annoyed. Although who cares? She's annoyed a lot. And I love it. So we're a textbook match, right?

"You're not taking me seriously," she accused.

"I get it. You're mad. You hate your job. You hate your partner."

"I don't hate my partner," she corrected quickly. " _Jennifer_ is my partner."

"You hate your temporary partner," I amended.

She sighed and closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter, and then pushed off again, turning to get into the fridge.

"I don't hate Maddie, either," she said with her back to me. "I just...don't want to have to adjust to someone new. Someone who says things like _Netflix and chill."_

I have no idea what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's irrelevant, so I didn't let her comment get me off track.

"You said she's smart," I reminded her. "And very good."

"She's twenty-two!" she yelled as she turned around again, this time with two beers in her hand, and I half expected her to down both of them, but instead she handed one off to me.

"So?"

"She's screwing Jeremy."

I bit back my smirk, knowing it would send her into pissed off territory, which unlike annoyed, isn't always a good thing.

"You wanted to hook him up. So it's Maddie instead of Jessica, so what? The kid needed to move past what happened in Baltimore."

"I know," she sighed.

"And you like Maddie," I stated.

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly.

"Clearly she likes you, if she's sharing information about her sex life."

"I guess."

"You just want Jennifer back."

It's Wednesday evening, and Mary just found out a little bit ago that the big boss put Jennifer on two weeks' leave.

That's what has Mary upset.

He did it without consulting her, or allowing her to break the news, but instead just called Jennifer at home today and told her that she has to get a clean psych eval as well as requalify on the range before returning to work, and absolutely not sooner than a week from Monday.

Mary doesn't deal well with change.

Which is funny considering how much of her life is different than it was just a few months ago, but maybe this is the straw that broke the camel's back.

"It's not fair," she said after draining half her beer. "Why should she have to requalify?"

"I'm sure it's pro forma. And it's not like she'll have any trouble. An hour at the range, and she's good."

"And the psych thing…"

"Is a good idea," I finished, taking a couple of steps towards her, prepared to have her right here in the kitchen, but then she caught me off guard.

"I heard from Rocco."

She said it quietly, like she was almost hoping I wouldn't hear. And she wasn't making eye contact anymore.

I stopped in my tracks, still about a foot away from her, and asked, "When? Where? How? What'd he say?"

She laughed humorlessly, and said, "You don't want to know."

"Actually, yes, I do," I replied, and now I'm the one annoyed. Because clearly it didn't _just_ happen, and I can't think of a reason in the world why she didn't tell me.

"Don't make a big deal out of this," she warned.

"I am. It's a big deal," I retorted. I reached past her, setting down my bottle of beer hard on the counter, and then I stayed close, leaning into her as I waited for her response.

"You know what? Never mind. I thought I wanted to tell you, but it turns out I don't," she said, and then she pushed past me and left the kitchen so quickly that I was standing there staring at the space where she'd been only mere seconds ago.

Of course, it only took one more second for me to go after her.

"Damn it, Mary, this is serious business."

"You think I think it's not serious?" she said, whirling around to face me. "He put out a hit on you!"

"And he threatened you," I reminded her. "So what did he say?"

"Which time?" she asked after a beat, and my annoyance swiftly upgraded to a combination of fear and anger.

"It's been more than once? Are you kidding me?"

"Just…settle down," she said patronizingly. "I'm an armed federal agent, remember? Marshal Service and all that?"

"It's not funny. He's off his meds. He's dangerous."

"For you."

"And maybe for you, too."

"He just wants me to leave you. He…thinks we're soul mates. Me and him. He was spouting off some stuff about the number nine and how it relates to us, and…well, like you said, he's off his meds."

"Were you able to track his number?"

"He didn't call."

"So you gave Mulder the email?"

"He didn't email either."

It's not like her to beat around the bush, and my adrenaline is pumping so hard that it's making my brain just a tad bit slow, but I finally got it.

"You saw him in _person?_ And he's not in custody? Mary, what the hell?"

"He caught me off guard," she answered, and now she's back to being annoyed, too.

 _Well, good_ , I thought. Because God, what if he'd done something to her?

"When was this?"

"The first time was yesterday evening. And then I saw him again this morning."

"So we sat in Steve-O's for hours last night, everyone spilling their guts about their days, and some of it was some pretty heavy stuff, by the way, and yet you just sat there and said nothing."

"John…"

I stared at her for another moment, and then I decided that I'm too mad to do this right now.

I turned around and went back into the kitchen, picking up my beer and killing it in one large swallow.

"So now _you're_ pissed?" she said, appearing in the doorway.

"Yes."

"Because I have to tell you everything? Because it's like some unwritten rule or something that I need to come clean every time I walk through that door? Bullshit, John. You have secrets. I have secrets. That's how marriage works," she said hotly, and then she glared at me, almost challenging me to argue her assessment, because we both know it's crap.

As I stared at her, my temper still hot but cooling slightly, I saw something that I missed before.

Something that doesn't belong on Mary's face.

Uncertainty.

"What did he say?" I asked her quietly.

"He didn't really think through the hit attempt. In his mind, it would make me walk away from you. He didn't necessarily want you dead, he just wants _me_ , and he figured that was the way to get me."

"But he didn't try to abduct you."

"Well…no."

"And he didn't hurt you?" I asked, berating myself for that not being the very _first_ question.

"No."

"What else did he say?"

Because it's something. He got to her with something. I can't decide if it's empathy or commiseration or…or…what, but it's _some_ thing.

And watching her, as her eyes got glassy while she debated whether or not to answer my question, I realized that it's something bad.

Did he tell her things about my past? Intimate details about immoral things I've done, something that might make her look at me differently? God knows he knows everything about me, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

"He said…that…" she broke off, exhaling heavily and running her hand through her hair, and my heart hurts just watching her struggle, so I went over to where she stood in the doorway and I pulled her into my arms.

"Please just tell me."

"He said that I'm a replacement for Heidi. That she was the love of your life, and I'm the love of his."

And now I want to kill him, even though I know he's sick. How dare he say something like that to her?

"Mary, you know…"

"Don't say it," she interrupted. "I don't need you to tell me. I know it. I just…he got me, John. When he said that…"

I held her more tightly, and she finally relaxed into my embrace, and I hate Rocco for exploiting Mary's one and only insecurity, and I'm not sure how to reverse the damage, except to show her just how damn much I love her.

Because Heidi was…yes, I loved her. But I was without her for so much longer than I was with her. And even though I couldn't let her supposed murder go, it was only because I needed _answers._ And yes, I got caught up in playing the part of the grieving playboy, losing myself in liquor and women. I've admitted that. Mary knows that. But once I found out the truth about Heidi, and I was able to put that part of my life to rest, I've only wanted Mary.

"We _don't_ keep secrets from each other," I said, my lips grazing against her ear. I could feel her tense up slightly, so I added, "Other than super top secret work stuff. But that's it, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, her words a quiet murmur against my chest.

"I mean it. No more. And in that spirit, I'll tell you a little something maybe you didn't know about me."

She pulled back so that she could look me in the eyes, and I love that the spark is there, that fiery, no-holds-barred Mary attitude.

"Something sordid from your past?" she asked playfully.

We've both offered full disclosure into our years before finding one another, but impertinent details were glossed over, by both of us, I'm sure.

"I don't know about sordid, but..."

I trailed off and ran my hand over her smooth hair, loving the soft, silky feel of it, and then I continued, saying, "When I met Heidi, and she was interested in _me_ and not my money…well, that's what I fell in love with. The idea that there was more to me than my bank account."

She nodded, and I like that she's really hearing my words, because this is important.

"And then she was killed, or so I thought. I felt like the only person who saw me as a person was gone. It messed me up for a long time. You know that. I turned into exactly what everyone assumed I would be - a callous, rich asshole who played the field. It was a way of protecting myself against what I thought was the truth. That no one else would be like her. No one else would love me for me. And then I met you."

I paused for a moment because I wanted, no I _needed_ to kiss her. It was a stirring and inspiring experience, reminding me of our very first kiss, in the hotel hallway in Denver.

When I pulled back, her eyes stayed closed and a small smile played on her lips, and it hit me again that I could just stand and _look_ at her for the rest of my life.

But I need to finish my story.

"I fell in love with you almost instantly, Mary. And if you'd turned out to be a gold-digger, then I'd be a broke, happy man, because I wanted you either way. See, that's the difference. I loved Heidi's indifference to my money. And you…I just love you."

She opened her eyes as I finished my declaration, and then it was her turn to kiss me, and maybe I've said it before, but Mary never does anything halfway. And that thought I had earlier, of wanting to have her right here in the kitchen, that turned into a reality as she began tugging on my shirt, not bothering to undo any buttons, and then she made quick work of my belt and before I knew it, my pants were around my ankles, which was perfect because I wasn't wasting any time getting her out of her clothes, either, and when I had her like I wanted her, I picked her up and turned us around, putting her back against the wall as I pushed into her.

It was hard and quick and borderline desperate, but it was so good. God, it was good. We didn't move for several minutes after it was over, instead just melded into each other, breathing as one.

"Does this mean you're not mad at me?" she asked at last.

"For not telling me about Rocco?"

"For that. For yelling at you. For taking out my anger at my boss on you. Take your pick."

"None of the above," I said, finally putting her back on her feet and taking a shaky step back from her. I hate to admit that my muscles are overtaxed, but let's face it. I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore. But if my thighs hurt tomorrow, tonight was still worth it.

"But like I said, no more secrets from here on out," I added.

She stepped into me and kissed me once more, and then she said, "I love you, John. I'm not sure what I did to deserve you, but whatever it was, I'm so glad I did it."

Twenty minutes later, we found ourselves eating dinner in our king-sized bed, and laughing at the irony of it.

"Must be the bad girl in me," Mary said with a grin. "I never like to do things the way society expects, so sex in the kitchen and dinner in bed…it's perfect."

She'll get no argument from me.

We smiled at each other for a long moment, the way newlyweds do, and then I said, "So tell me more about your encounters with Rocco."

I kept my face impassive as she described how he approached her yesterday, unnoticed from behind, urging her into an alley so that they could talk alone.

I also showed no reaction when she admitted she basically let him walk away, her drawn gun being only for effect.

It wasn't easy, hiding my emotion, but I'm not going to make the problem worse by piling on to what she's already feeling.

"And then today when I left for work, he approached me outside the front doors."

"Here? At the Millennium?"

Mental note: fire the security detail that was on duty this morning.

"Not right outside," she amended. "It was halfway down the block, so don't hand the detail their walking papers. It's not their fault."

"How is it not their fault?"

"Because I made myself an easy target. I wanted to see if he was watching, and if he would approach me again."

"Oh. So all of this was on purpose?"

"No, not yesterday, but once I realized he must be keeping an eye on me, I decided to see how it might play out."

"Alone," I pointed out, unable to hold in that little barb.

She shrugged, and said, "My partner's unavailable. And my husband is too visible. If Rocco spotted you within a half-mile, he would've disappeared."

I took a deep breath and relaxed again, understanding her rationale.

And trusting her implicitly.

But still…

"Next time you'll have Maddie tag along?" I pressed, needing her to be safe.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and agreed.

"And you'll tell me about it beforehand? And afterwards?"

"Holy crap, are you always going to be this bossy?" she groused, still grinning.

"When it comes to you? Yes."

"I suppose I can live with it. And getting back to Rocco, I don't think it'll be much longer before I'm able to talk him in."

"So we can get him the help he needs."

"Exactly."

"You're amazing," I asserted, even as I thwarted her attempt to steal a pepperoni from my slice of pizza.

She made a sound of dispute, and was quiet for a moment, and then she said, "Go ahead and ask."

"Ask what?"

"How'd he get the drop on me yesterday?" she posed for me.

"I wasn't thinking that," I lied.

"John," she admonished. "You know I'm too good to let that happen, not when we've both on the lookout for him."

"True," I admitted. "Okay, so how'd he get the drop on you?"

"I was distracted."

"I figured. On what? Jennifer?"

"In a roundabout way," she answered, but then she didn't say more. Instead, she just stared at me with this contemplative expression and a half-smile.

And it's not that I'm blowing off the Rocco incident, but now my frame of mind has shifted because I really need to know what had her preoccupied.

I grabbed our plates and put them on the nightstand and then I moved over her in a show of dominance, playfully trying to force the words out of her, but only succeeding in making her laugh.

"You think you can intimidate me?" she asked in amusement.

"Is it working?"

"No. But you said no more secrets, right?"

"Right, so…"

"So I was debating whether or not I want us to try for a baby. Not like, right now, but, I don't know. Soon, maybe."

If she'd given me a million guesses, I still wouldn't have gotten it right.

I've been pussyfooting around talking to her about the house I want to buy, not wanting to rush her into clichéd suburbia, and she's thinking kids?

"You hate the idea?" she questioned, looking slightly nervous, and possibly a little annoyed with herself for _liking_ the idea.

"I love the idea," I corrected immediately, capturing her lips with mine to convey just _how much_ I love the idea.

"Yeah?" she said as I pulled back, her lips quirking into a smile.

"Yeah," I agreed, and I honestly don't think I've ever been this happy in my entire life.

A little Mary added to the family. God help us all.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up:** **Bernard**_


	43. Chapter 43

**Bernard POV**

* * *

"How'd it go?"

"I'm back on the bench."

Lauren's words were simple enough, but the frustration is evident from both her tone and her body language.

She just finished her session with Horsley and Davis, the IAB guys assigned to her OIS, and she got into the car, where I've been waiting for the past half an hour.

Not that I mind the wait.

I'd wait for her for however long is necessary.

I just hate that she had to go through the exercise. Again.

Within forty-eight hours.

Within _eight_ hours of being cleared from the first incident.

"You want to talk about it?" I asked as she studiously ignored me, her full focus on the menial task of buckling her seat belt.

"Not really, no," she answered as she clicked the buckle into place and then leaned her head back against the seat, sighing as she finally made eye contact. "It's a formality. It's no big deal. It's dotting I's and crossing T's."

"That's what Horsley said?"

"That's what Ross said," she corrected.

"Even better."

"B, I killed two men in three days. You think something isn't going to come of this? Even with Ross on my side."

"You killed two murderers," I pointed out. "You saved lives, both times. What should come out of this is a medal."

She continued to stare at me, her gaze softening along with her mood, and then she finally managed a smile.

"You're always so sure of me, aren't you?" she said in wonder. "I don't understand it, but I sure do love it."

She held out her hand, resting it palm up on the console, and I immediately covered it with mine, appreciating the connection as well as being impressed with how easily I lightened her mood.

She's certainly been through a lot recently, and I'm sure I've been getting on her nerves a little, hovering and asking if she's alright. She teased about it last night, but it's also true.

I _do_ keep asking. I can't help it.

If I were her, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be quite so okay.

And that was just after Flowers.

Today, she had a run-in with the Irish, when she and Eames went to Hell's Kitchen. I don't know the details yet, but I do know she put a bullet in Bryan Dennison and now he's in the morgue in a drawer next to Bill Flowers.

"So where to?" I asked as I pulled out of the parking space, one hand still holding hers while the other grips the wheel. "Home? Or out?"

"You know what I want to do?" she asked, shifting towards me, bringing one leg up so that it's tucked beneath her.

"Name it," I offered, and then I had to look at her again because I like the playfulness in her voice, and I like how she's turned towards me, moving our hands onto her thigh, and I absolutely love that she's in this kind of mood after the week she's had.

"Let's go to a hotel. Get a room with a Jacuzzi. Order room service. Maybe get a dirty movie," she stated, and then she leaned across the console, letting go of my hand so that she could slide it along my leg as she amended, "Or maybe we'll make our own dirty movie."

She makes me wish I could snap my fingers and have us magically at a hotel in a split second.

As it stands, I still have to drive there, and hopefully get us there in one piece, so I reluctantly put my hand over top of hers, stalling its upward track.

"You start on me in the car, and it'll be the shortest movie in history," I remarked, causing her to laugh but she still eased back to her side, our hands once again resting on her leg.

"I just want to be somewhere and not think," she said on a sigh.

"Hotel it is," I agreed. "We'll go to the Millennium. I'm not above name-dropping to get a good room."

She smiled, her head back against the seat and her eyes closed, and she was quiet for the rest of the drive.

I don't mind. Like I said, she's been through a lot. It's going to manifest itself in some fashion, sooner or later, so I'll just make sure I'm around when it happens. And in the meantime, a night in a hotel as a break from reality sounds like a great idea to me.

Ten minutes later, I pulled up in front of our building, leaving the car running as I unbuckled and then leaned across the console.

"Sit tight. I'm going to run up and grab us a bag. Five minutes, tops."

She nodded, and I started to move back, but then she grabbed my tie, holding me in place as she kissed me soundly.

"Like our first kiss," she said after pulling back fractionally. "In the front seat of your car, only we were in front of my building."

"You surprised the hell out of me that night," I replied, enjoying the memory.

"Uh huh," she hummed, and then she added teasingly. "You still think I have a thing for Lupo?"

She didn't even give me time to respond because the kiss that followed was intense and purposeful, and made me rethink our need to go anywhere other than home tonight, since we're already here, because I could pull her out of this car and carry her upstairs and have her undressed in only a minute or two, and then into the bedroom, or maybe I won't take the time to walk down the hall, maybe we'll just do it right inside the door…

"I think I changed my mind," she said in a sultry voice as she moved her lips along my jaw, up to my ear, all while her hands attempted to pull me closer, but I'm a big guy and I'm only going to get so far across the console without getting hung up, even when my motivation is a turned-on Lauren.

"About…" I posed, unable to form more words than that as she gave up on getting me on top of her and instead just reached for my belt buckle.

"We don't need a Jacuzzi or room service. Let's just go upstairs."

As much as I want to spoil her, give her everything she wants, her new idea of staying _here_ is music to my ears because I want her so much right now it's killing me, and she isn't actually undoing my belt buckle, but her hand is right there and that, plus her lips on my ear and her other hand with a death grip on my tie, are all serving to push me to the brink of sanity.

"Now," I agreed with urgency, even though I after saying it, I brought her lips back to mine, kissing her with fierce desperation.

I finally forced myself to pull back, intent on getting out of the car and grabbing her hand and literally running up the stairs, but as I moved back to my side, I noticed a figure out on the sidewalk, lingering near our car.

Within a second, I was out the door, my hand on my weapon and my lusty haze dissipating, and I don't know why it surprised me, but at the same time, Lauren was out her side, her jacket pushed back as she reached for a gun that isn't there.

 _Damn IAB and their rules on officer-involved shootings,_ I thought, and then I recognized the man, and I can't decide _what_ to feel, especially since I can see a bulge in his jacket.

Apparently Lauren isn't sure either, because I could hear the uncertainty in her voice as she said, "Mr. O'Connor."

"Relax, my dear," he said soothingly. "I'm sorry to startle you."

"You're at our home," I stated, and in spite of Logan's association with him, I'm still not at ease, mostly because I don't know exactly what happened today in Hell's Kitchen, but I _do_ know that Lauren shot and killed a Westie.

"My apologies for the intrusion," he said. "I was close, and wanted to say what I have to say in person."

"Let's go upstairs," Lauren said, catching me off guard with her willingness to invite him into our home, although she _does_ know what happened today, and not only that, but I know that she has a tremendous amount of trust and respect for Logan, which clearly extends to O'Connor as well, so even though I liked it better when she said those words to _me_ just a minute ago, I relaxed my stance and dropped my hand from my weapon, nodding as I gestured towards the door.

"I won't take up much of your time," he promised congenially. "I know you have better things to do."

Then he winked at me and turned to follow Lauren up the stairs.

Once inside, he got right to it.

"I just came from my man Shaw's place," he said. "He said he owes his life to you."

Then he reached in his jacket and pulled out a brown paper bag, and I realized the bulge I was concerned about is apparently a bottle of Jameson's Irish whiskey. That's not to say he isn't packing, because he surely has a piece on him somewhere, but I'm past the point of being worried about him.

Because he came to say thank you.

"Fix us a slug, my good man," he said as he held out the bottle to me. I hesitated for a moment because Lauren doesn't drink bourbon, and even though this is whiskey, that's close enough, but she nodded at me, the gesture telling me she's okay alone with him and with the offer of a shot, so I took the bottle and headed into the kitchen. I kept an ear on their conversation, though.

"Ol' Dennison was snared rapid, to be sure," he told her. "Thick as a ditch, that boy. If he'd just been patient, t'would've all been his before long. Turned into the worst kind of rat, he did. Bloody wick. How'd you figure?"

"It's no big deal. I'm just sorry it took so long. We knew it wasn't Shaw, but honestly, we started out thinking it was Puccio who was setting him up. To find out it was one of his own men…that's tough. I'm sorry."

"The backyard is often the last place looked. You put yourself in harm's way, my dear. That makes you dead sound, in my book."

I returned to the foyer to find Lauren smiling at his latest remark, and as she accepted a shot glass from me, she said to him, "That's a good thing, I hope."

O'Connor nodded and said _to be sure_ as he took a glass from me. I kept the third in my hand, and held it up as O'Connor raised his in toast.

"To Lauren, a savage sham to the Irish. I'm in your debt, my dear. Whatever you need, you've only to ask. Slainte."

He tossed back the whiskey, and I hesitated, waiting to see if Lauren would drink hers. She only paused a moment before taking the shot, so I followed suit, and when our glasses were empty, he handed his over and then shook my hand.

"You've quite the lass here, my boy."

"Yes, sir, I know," I agreed. He held my hand an extra beat, then turned to Lauren and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Next time Mike Logan makes the trip, you two should come along. Others will want to see you, my dear. To express their thanks."

"We'll see what we can do," she answered, smiling as she put her hand on top of his, patting it briefly before he dropped it and moved away.

"I'll let you get to your evening," he said. "You've still time for the flah, to be sure."

He turned and left, leaving us to stand staring at the door for a long moment before I asked, "Is it just me, or was that a little weird?"

"You mean that an Irish mob boss owes me a favor, or that he left so we can have sex?" she asked on a laugh.

"Is that what flah is?"

She laughed harder and went into my arms, hugging me tightly as she said, "You need to brush up on your Irish lingo. Or maybe I've just spent too much time with the Westies over the past month."

"Who's been using that terminology with you?" I asked, only partially teasing, but then she kissed me, and suddenly the visit from O'Connor was forgotten as my earlier desire came rushing back, and this time there's no console holding me back, nothing to slow me down from stripping her out of her clothes, from touching her all over, from kissing every inch of her beautiful skin.

And no, we didn't make it to the bedroom. But we _did_ manage to find the living room, and the thick softness of Lauren's favorite rug. We stayed on it for a while afterwards, wrapped in each other's arms.

"So do you want to tell me what happened today?" I asked, keeping my voice low in the quiet room.

"Well, Eames and I went to talk to Dennison. We wanted to confront him about the video footage. But he wasn't at his place, and after talking to a couple of people in the neighborhood, we tracked him down to Shaw's house."

"You think he knew you were coming for him?"

"No, I think he just got tired of waiting for us to arrest Shaw for the murder. Dennison wanted to run the crew, and getting rid of Shaw was the only way to do it, or at least the only way to do it _now_ ," she amended in deference to O'Connor's remark. "Anyway, it was pretty cut and dry. I was the first one through the door, and Dennison was about to kill Shaw, so I took him out."

"And now Shane O'Connor is hand-delivering Irish whiskey," I concluded. "Wow. And you drank it."

It was a statement, but a question at the same time, and I know Lauren understands the depth of it.

She turned in my arms, looking at me with those amazing blue eyes of hers and then she said, "It's long past time for me to move on from Bill Flowers, don't you think? I mean, in every sense. Not one little bit of him belongs in my life, not even the way he turned the sweet smell of bourbon into something vile. I'm just…I'm done with him."

I nodded thoughtfully, appreciating her conviction, and then I asked, "So you like it? The whiskey?"

"No," she chuckled. "But it didn't make me sick to smell it, and sipping a little from time to time won't trigger a flashback. I won't let it, even if I have to drink that whole bottle just to make sure."

"I'll help," I offered.

"You help make everything better," she asserted, bringing her lips to mine for a soft, easy exploration, and then she rested her head against my chest and let out a long, contented sigh.

"IAB wants me to see a shrink," she said after another minute. "I'm on a desk until I do, and regardless, I can't go back on the street until Monday. Oh, and Jennifer's out for a while, too. A week from Monday, she said. She's freaking out."

"I'm sure she'll find trouble somewhere," I remarked. "She'll be pestering Mary for case details soon enough."

She hummed her agreement, and I can feel how relaxed she is, and I'm right there with her, running my hand lightly over her hair and enjoying the feel of her breath across my skin. And then the dreaded ringing of the cell phone ruined our moment of Zen.

After a few choice words, Lauren got to her feet, going in search of her phone, while I propped my head on my hand and enjoyed the view.

"Oh my God, I got up for this?" she muttered as she flashed the phone towards me, showing me her mother's name on the caller ID.

"She'll keep calling," I pointed out as I finally got up. "May as well get it over with."

I put my hands on her shoulders, holding her still as I dropped a kiss on her nose, and then I headed for the kitchen to find something for dinner, only partly listening as she answered: _hello, mother…wait, what? You're where? Are you kidding me right now?_

I stopped foraging and looking up to find Lauren standing in the doorway, an exasperated expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly. She shook her head and closed her eyes, even as she said into the phone, "No. No…no…Mother, no. Did you at least apologize? Okay, fine. Yes, in an hour."

She hung up and for a second, I thought she was going to throw her cell phone across the room, but she managed to hold onto it, choosing instead to let out a frustrated shout.

"She's fucking here," she finally said. "I mean, not _here_ here, but in New York. She went to my old apartment and apparently harassed Mulder, thinking he was you. God, the poor kid…I should text him to make sure he isn't scarred for life. What is wrong with my parents? First my dad, and now her."

"You dropped a bombshell on her last week. Her baby got married. Did you think she wouldn't come?"

"I thought she wouldn't come," she repeated vehemently. "I mean, why would she? No, don't answer that. I know why. So she can judge you and belittle me and criticize everything about our lives, and then she'll scurry back to Minnesota and claim to all of her friends that she _tried_ to fix me but I'm hopeless."

"Hey, it's okay," I said, moving in front of her and slipping my arms around her. "We can do the mother thing. How bad can she be?"

I can't imagine she's worse than Grayson Hayes.

"Bad. She's the exact opposite of your mother," she answered, and then she barked out a laugh and said, "She wanted our address, but I wouldn't give it to her."

"You didn't tell her where we live?"

"I don't want her popping in, do you?" she responded with practicality. "O'Connor, sure, but my mother?"

I laughed, still holding her until I felt her finally relax again, and then she pulled back and said, "I said we would meet her for dinner. I'm sorry."

"In an hour," I said with a nod, remembering how she ended the conversation. "No problem. I wasn't finding anything to eat here anyway."

"You really don't mind? It's going to be brutal."

"Not if we keep our perspective," I said firmly. "We have a life here, without her. A damn good one, I think. Nothing she says or does can change that."

"It is good, isn't it?"

"I said damn good," I corrected playfully. "Besides, you've taken out two murderers in the past forty-eight hours. Your mother should be a piece of cake, right?"

"You're right," she said with a smile. "Okay, so…let's go to dinner."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Mulder**_


	44. Chapter 44

**Mulder POV**

* * *

Wednesday night, I knocked off work at six-thirty and headed for home.

It's later than I'd like, but still better than last night, although Cecilia's been alone for a lot of the day today, so I didn't waste time snagging dinner, but instead hit the subway station at a jog, making it to my building before seven.

I exited the stairwell and there was a woman standing outside of my door.

The elegant, high-society type.

Perfect hair, flawless nails, impeccably dressed.

Like Vanessa Montgomery Hastings.

I immediately stuck my hand in my pocket, getting a good grip on my Taser.

"Can I help you?" I said in the most authoritative voice I could muster.

And I have to admit, I impressed myself a little. I almost sound like Lupo. Calm, cool, and in charge.

The woman turned around to face me, her expression inscrutable, and I came to a halt a few feet away.

 _Leaving enough room to use my Taser._

As she stared at me hard, I found myself analyzing her features, looking for any hint of Cecilia, but I came up empty.

"You," she said after a moment of heavy silence. Then she looked me up and down critically, to the point where I had the urge to shrink back into the stairwell, but instead I took a deep breath and stood up to my full height, and repeated my previous question.

"Can you help me?" she asked incredulously. "I'd say you've already done quite enough. You couldn't just live with her in sin? At least that way, the entanglements don't require lawyers and paperwork. Or is it for the money? You honestly think you're going to get a single penny?"

And okay, so that was the point I began to stutter a little.

Does she really think Cecilia wants her money? That _I_ want her money?

And is she seriously here making accusations after almost killing Cecilia three nights ago?

It made me want to pull out my Taser and give her a jolt, just on principle. Although I promised Lupo I would only use it if absolutely necessary. But surely this would count, wouldn't it?

"Look…Bernard, or whatever your name is," she continued, ignoring my inept attempts at speech. "I'm just here to see my daughter."

"Bernard?" I finally managed.

"That's your name, isn't it?" she asked in confusion. "Or is it Benton? Barnett? Oh, whatever, can we please just go inside? I'd like to see my daughter."

My brain usually runs like an Intel quad core i7, at the very least, but I'll confess that standing there in the hallway with the woman who looks like she belongs on the red carpet, my gigs were crunching at C64 speed.

Because it took me at least five more seconds to get the right answer when trying to put two and two together.

"You're Lauren's mom," I said at last.

And I'll admit, now that I've figured it out, she does resemble Lauren. Sort of. If Lauren were to cut her hair, and wear double the make-up and thousand-dollar suits, and suddenly turn into a stone cold bitch.

The woman I pegged as Mrs. Hayes narrowed her eyes at me and tilted her head to one side as she scrutinized me more thoroughly and then she said condescendingly in a drawn-out voice, "Yes, I'm Lauren's mother. And you're her husband. Now that we know who we all are, can you tell me where to find my daughter?"

I relaxed my grip on the Taser, since the fact that she's not Vanessa has finally fully absorbed into my gray matter, although I have to say, Lauren's mom doesn't seem much better. She could stand a few thousand volts, too.

"I'm not Bernard," I responded. And I can't explain why I did what I did next. I guess that inner geek in me is still alive and kicking. Anyway, I pulled out my FBI credentials, flashing them to her as I said, "I'm Mulder, with the FBI."

Whether it was geeky or not, it gave me great pleasure to see her take a step back and re-evaluate.

"FBI? And you're here…why?"

"I live here. I'm subletting from Lauren. She moved out a couple of months ago."

"Oh. Well. Then. My apologies," she said haltingly. "I don't suppose you happen to have her new address?"

Her whole demeanor changed, since now she wants something from me, but I'm not about to give her what she wants.

"I have no idea," I answered, and then I decided to give her something else she didn't want.

Advice.

Because Lauren's been through enough this week, and it's obvious she doesn't know her mother's in town, and it's even more obvious that the two of them don't keep in touch because the woman doesn't even know where her own daughter lives or for that matter what her husband looks like, so I can't help but feel a bit protective of my friend.

"I'll just call her then," she was muttering as she started walking away, but I stopped her, saying, "You might want to rethink your approach."

"I beg your pardon?" she questioned, whirling around to face me again, and I almost chickened out, but then I reminded myself that I'm a grown man, and I work for the government, and this woman doesn't hold any power over me.

"You should adjust your attitude," I asserted. "Bernard and Lauren love each other. That's why they got married, not because of any possibility of money you might have. And if you knew Lauren, you'd know that. You'd know she's really happy with him. And if you talk to the real Bernard like you just talked to me when you thought I was him…well, I'm guessing Lauren will tell you to get back on a plane and don't bother coming back."

I could see her outrage building as I said my piece, so when I finished, I didn't wait for a response, but instead just quickly turned around and jammed the key in the lock, opening the apartment door and slipping inside.

Where I almost knocked over Cecilia.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I caught her with a hand on her elbow, helping her regain her balance on her crutches.

"I was listening," she answered, not phased at all by almost taking a spill. In fact, she smiled broadly and then held up her arms, letting her crutches fall away, knowing I'd pick her up.

It's tough being me. Coming home to this beautiful woman who wants me to hold her in my arms.

I quickly scooped her up and then kissed her hello with the proper enthusiasm, since it's been nearly six hours since I saw her last.

It seems she missed me almost as much as I missed her.

"You were great with Lauren's mom," she said after another minute, her lips still against mine. "I love what you said to her."

"At first, I thought she was Vanessa," I admitted.

"I think they're cut from the same cloth. Poor Lauren. You should text her, to warn her."

"I'm sure her mother has called her by now," I reasoned, not wanting to put Cecilia down just yet because I love the way she feels, so soft and warm in my arms. "I see you're trying out the crutches. Alone."

It was a rebuke, although only a mild one. I can't expect her not to get up at all while she's here alone, and I trust her not to overdo it.

"She knocked. I was checking the peephole when I heard your voice."

"Uh huh. And then you just stayed inside and eavesdropped," I remarked, my face flushing a little at the realization that she heard my dorky introduction.

"You were brilliant," she said. "I loved the FBI bit. You had her shaking in her manolo blahniks."

"I'm guessing those are shoes?" I deflected.

"Very expensive ones. But hey, Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to stand here holding me," she said with a smile.

"True, but what if I want to?" I posed, making her smile even more, but it was brief and then it faltered.

"Let's go in the living room. There's something I've been wanting to talk with you about," she admitted, and I suddenly had this searing pain in my chest at the realization that something's wrong.

 _Bernard told me this forced cohabitation would either make or break us_ , I thought as I carried her into the other room and gently put her down on the couch. I've been thinking it's making us, but maybe she's leaning more towards the breaking side.

"Sit with me," she said with seriousness, patting the cushion next to her.

"I think I might need a beer for this conversation," I said cautiously. "You want one?"

I headed for the kitchen without waiting for her response, and I can feel myself spiraling.

When a woman wants to talk, it can't be good.

Or at least that's what Jeremy says.

" _Anything prefaced by_ _ **we need to talk**_ _…dude, you better shore up your castle walls, you know what I'm saying_?"

" _Because it's always bad?"_ I questioned.

" _What, you think she's going to follow that up with_ _ **I love you**_ _? Not happening, man."_

And I guess he knows better than me, since he's dated a few dozen girls and I'm on girl number one.

"Mulder?" Cecilia called out, probably since I've been wigging out in the kitchen, afraid to go back to hear the dreaded words.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

I popped open a beer and downed the whole thing all at once. Another skill I picked up from Jeremy. Shotgunning. Maybe the quick rush of alcohol will keep me from crying like a baby when Cilia dumps me.

I tossed the empty into the trash and then pulled two more from the fridge, and I went back into the living room.

"Are you okay?" she asked me as I handed her the bottle and then sat on the coffee table, facing her.

"Just go ahead and say it."

She looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then asked, "What is it you think I'm going to say?"

"You said we have to talk. That means…it means…you know, it means…"

"Mulder, I'm not breaking up with you," she said, interrupting my rambling as she scooted up to the edge of the couch, reaching over to grab my hand.

"You're not?"

"You really thought I was?" she countered. "I mean, if anything, I thought maybe you were getting tired of me being here, of having to take care of me and never having a moment to yourself, and…"

"No," I said quickly. "I love that you're here. I just…I thought…Jeremy said when a girl says she needs to talk, it's to break up."

"Oh, well there's your problem," she said with a grin. "Getting advice from Jeremy. Besides, I didn't say we _need_ to talk, I said I _want_ to talk with you about something. Completely different."

"But you got so serious," I pressed, my heart still not quite recovered.

"It's a serious issue," she said reasonably. "And something I should've discussed with you before now. But Mulder…"

She paused and crooked her finger at me, urging me closer since her cast won't let her lean forward any more, but even the position she's in doesn't look very comfortable, so I moved over to the couch and pulled her legs over my lap, and then leaned in and gave her the kiss she requested.

I may have gotten a little carried away with it, too. Because I really love kissing her, and to think that only a minute ago, I was wrestling with the distinct possibility of never getting to kiss her again…it's a miracle I'm not experiencing a full system crash.

But I'm not. I actually think I've recovered quite nicely, so I spent a few minutes enjoying the taste of her, appreciating the way she's gripping my shirt, and the feel of her bare legs beneath my hand.

When she pulled back, I got a handle on my libido, knowing we still need to talk, and I started backing off, giving her a little space, but she held onto my shirt, keeping me close and then she said softly, "Mulder, I love you."

There's no way she just said what I think I heard her say.

"You…I…what?" I asked, annoyingly reverting to ineloquence.

She tightened her grip on me, pulling me even closer and then her lips grazed my ear as she whispered, "I love you."

In true dork fashion, I felt tears burn my eyes. I mean, how masculine is that, to get choked up when a girl says those words?

But I don't care because she must know I'm a dork by now and she loves me anyway.

But how can that be?

I'm having trouble processing the data, and yet at the same time, my gears aren't so jammed that I don't say it back.

Because I _do_ love her. I've known that for a while now.

The words were barely out of my mouth before she was kissing me again, this time with amplified urgency, and I shifted my position, as quickly as I carefully could, stretching out over top of her, loving the feel of her beneath me and it didn't even matter that I knocked over my beer bottle during the process because neither of us let the blunder slow us down.

It was later, a long time later, before I got up from the couch to clean up the mess. The spilled beer and my khakis and polo and skivvies, and her t-shirt and gym shorts…I picked it all up while keeping my eye on Cilia, appreciating how freaking gorgeous she is, lying naked on my couch.

And then it hit me again.

 _She loves me._

I finally have everything I've ever wanted.

"You're staring," she pointed out, a shy smile on her face.

"I'm just trying to match the conflicted script, right?" I replied, and I paused for a minute, prepared to explain, but she nodded as she sat up, reaching for the shirt I held out to her, and she said, "I know, it's a lot. And it's fast. But it's true."

The fact that she gets me makes me love her even more.

"But," she continued as she slipped the t-shirt over her head. "That's not what I wanted to talk about. I mean, I've been wanting to say that to you for a while, too, but it's not actually…God, I'm making it sound way worse than it is. Again. I can't believe you thought I was going to dump you!"

I thought back to Jeremy's words, how he specifically said _I love you_ would never follow _we need to talk_ , and I laughed out loud, more out of happiness than mere amusement, but still…

At Cilia's questioning look, I filled her in on our conversation, and then she laughed along with me for a moment, before blurting out, "Mike Cutter offered me a job, and I want to take it. I'm going to take it."

I let that process for a moment as I pulled on my boxers, and then I sat down on the coffee table again, resting my elbows on my thighs and taking hold of her hands.

"And you thought I would be…what? Upset? That you're moving to New York? Are you kidding me?"

"I wasn't sure. I mean, this thing we have, it's me in Boston and you here, and what if me being here all the time changes things? And I didn't want you to freak out, thinking I was moving here just for you, because I would never put that kind of pressure on you. And…I don't know. It's scary as hell, thinking about packing up everything I own and starting over in a new city, and finding my own apartment and learning where everything is, but at the same time, the job sounds so exciting, and I've made friends here, your friends, and there's Liz, and you, and…"

"I love that you're moving here," I said, interrupting her rambling. "And a job with the DA's office will be so cool. You'll get to work with Cutter, and with Connie…Cilia, that's awesome, really."

"Really? Because I don't want to do anything that hurts _us_."

"If living in the same city hurts us, then it wasn't really much of a relationship to begin with, don't you think?" I posed.

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded, and I get it, because I know how life changes can send a person into a tailspin of emotions and uncertainty. It hasn't been that long since I nearly yakked all over the inside of Lupo's car, just at the prospect of a day trip into the city.

"But that's not going to happen," I promised, quirking a smile at her before adding, "You've been here six days in a row. If I were going to get sick of you, trust me, it would've happened by now."

She broke into a relieved smile, and I stood up, leaning over her to kiss her once more.

"Crazy woman," I teased as I pulled away, moving to finish picking up our stuff. "Thinking I'd be mad about getting to see you every day instead of only on the weekends."

"Yeah, well you thought I was going to break up with you, so that makes you pretty damn crazy, too," she fired back playfully, and I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm just that happy.

Cilia loves me. And she's moving to New York to work for the DA's office.

It's just sofa king.

We spent the rest of the evening doing normal couple things. Well, I guess normal is subjective, and we _are_ a couple of computer geeks, and she does have a broken leg, so we discussed lappers and pen testers while eating dinner, and afterwards, I helped her take a bath.

"We should make a trip up to Boston on Saturday," I suggested, at first pretending not to stare while she shaved her legs, but then giving up all pretense and eventually helping her as she worked to get as close to the cast as possible without getting it wet.

"I can ask Lupo if I can borrow his car," I continued. "Do you think you'll be okay for that long of a drive? If not, I can just go."

"No, I think I'll be fine. It'll be good to get out," she said. "And it'll be nice to get some of my things…I can talk to the super about getting out of my lease. And wow, I need to find a place here, put in my notice at work, talk to Mr. Cutter about a start date…"

"There's no rush on any of that. Get better first," I said. "For now, we'll get some of your things, and I'm sure Gates misses you. We'll bring him back with us."

She argued briefly about that, not wanting me to be inconvenienced by her dog, but I assured her that this is where he needs to be.

"Lauren won't mind?" she conceded. "I mean, it is her apartment."

"She had a cat. Same difference," I responded with a shrug. "But I'll run it past her, just to be sure."

I reached for the shampoo and squeezed some into my hand as Cilia leaned up away from the edge of the tub. I'm sure she can wash her own hair, but hey, I'm here. I may as well help. Besides, I love the sounds of pleasure she makes as I work the liquid into her thick hair, massaging her scalp.

We didn't talk for a while as I rinsed her hair and then helped her out, drying her off and finding something for her to put on, and then carrying her into the bed.

"I wonder how things went with Lauren's mother," she mused once we were both under the covers.

"I can't imagine they went well. That woman has an unbelievably huge stick up her ass."

"Speaking of women with sticks up their asses," she said, smiling at me as she scooted closer. "I wonder how the Logans are doing with Vanessa. I kind of thought we'd hear from them today."

We spent a few minutes speculating about the investigation, but then she drifted off to sleep, and I guess I did, too, because the next thing I knew, the alarm was ringing.

Six-fifteen on Thursday morning.

I reached out and hit the snooze, not in any hurry to get out of bed.

"You'll be late," Cilia warned, her voice low and sleepy. She's still pressed against my side, and she has one hand beneath my shirt, her fingers moving lazily across my chest.

"I figure if I'm fast in the shower and take breakfast to go, I can spend another fifteen minutes in bed," I reasoned.

"Hmm…I love how quickly your mind works," she responded, reaching up to press her lips against mine, and her body's so warm and soft…I'm sure if I work on it for a few more seconds, I can find a way to stay in bed even longer.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her on top of me as our kiss turned more purposeful, and that's when my cell phone rang.

I used to laugh at how Lupo and Connie seemed to get interrupted by their cell phones all the time, but it's not so funny when it's me.

Cilia pulled back, her gaze shifting to my nightstand so that she could read the display, and then she eased off of me as she said, "Logan."

I took a deep breath to regain my focus and then reached for my phone.

"You have shitty timing," I answered, knowing he won't mind my rudeness, and he didn't. He actually had a good laugh about it.

"Welcome to the club, G-man," he said. "Hey, how's Cecilia doing?"

"You're calling at six-seventeen in the morning to ask me that?"

"I'm calling because we got our warrant. We're bringing Vanessa in today, and we're going to have a go at her in the box. I thought Cecilia might want to watch."

"Oh. Wow, yeah, dude, that's…wow."

"I can come get her," he offered. "I know she's not doing stairs, but we can just swing by there and I'll carry her down."

"No, it's okay…um, what time do you think you'll start?"

"Assuming she hasn't fled the country? I'm thinking noon. That'll give us time to bring her in, for her to bitch about it, and then call a lawyer, and for the lawyer to get there."

"Okay, I'll just take a long lunch. I'll bring her myself."

"Good deal, Mulder. See you at noon."

I hung up with him and turned back to find Cilia watching me.

"Are you bringing me somewhere?"

"They have a warrant for Vanessa. Logan thought you'd want to watch the interrogation. You do, right?"

"Hell, yes," she said firmly. "So they really got a warrant? She did it?"

"Possibly. It just means they got enough information for the arrest. And I know them, they'll want to get a confession out of her, rather than worrying about a trial."

"She's crafty and vicious."

"So are the Logans," I said, sliding my palm along her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I'm…yeah, I'm…wow, my own mother tried to kill me."

"She doesn't deserve to be called your mother."

"I know. You're right, it's just…weird. And yet, I'm not sure I care. If she did it, I want to see her go down for it."

"She will," I promised.

She nodded thoughtfully and then glanced over at the clock before saying coyly, "Now you only have eleven minutes."

"That's six hundred and sixty seconds," I said with a grin, pulling her back down on top of me, and then reaching my hands underneath her t-shirt. "Do you have any idea what I can do with that kind of time?"

"Hack NASA?" she teased.

"Well, obviously," I replied, tugging her shirt over her head. "But I was thinking more along the lines of executing a penetration tester."

"You're dirty geek-talking me?" she asked in amusement.

I'd love to be confident enough to just go with it, but I'm not, so I had to ask, "Yeah, you like it?"

"I love it. Clock's ticking, Mulder. Make me hack-proof."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jennifer**_


	45. Chapter 45

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

My first instinct was to go to Mike's office.

Then I stopped and reconsidered.

Four times.

I'm sure I look like a complete idiot, standing on the sidewalk in front of Dr. Skoda's office, literally doing one-eighties while I fight with myself.

I guess you could say the session with the shrink did a number on me.

" _Inspector Dunn,"_ the doctor greeted when I arrived. " _I've heard a lot about you."_

" _And you still agreed to meet with me, I'm impressed,_ " I quipped as I shook his hand. " _I know you do most of your work with the NYPD, so I appreciate you seeing me."_

" _There's a commonality to all law enforcement,"_ he deflected with an easy shrug. _"Although I have to admit, you're my first marshal."_

" _We have our own doc. An in-house guy."_

" _And your supervisor didn't insist on you going to him?"_

" _My supervisor is Mary Strathmore,_ " I stated, even though I assume he already knows, mostly because I don't really know _what_ to say. In fact, I'm a little uncomfortable. Or rather, more accurate would be for me to say I'm a _lot_ uncomfortable.

" _She knows the rules and regs,"_ I continued. " _Fine print says I can go anywhere for my eval."_

" _And you picked me,_ " he replied with a smile. _"I'm honored."_

" _You met with Lauren already this morning_ ," I stated.

" _I really can't confirm or deny."_

 _"It wasn't a question. She's my best friend. I guess I'm just saying, you know the situation, so we can bypass the backstory, right?"_

He held my gaze for a minute, his light blue eyes feeling like laser beams piercing into my brain, and then he tilted his head as he continued to stare, still not saying a word.

" _I'll take that to mean you_ _ **do**_ _want backstory,"_ I conceded. " _Okay, how far back do I have to go? Will knowing about my childhood tell you I'm fit to go back to work?"_

" _Inspector, relax,"_ he said calmly. I started to argue that I _am_ relaxed, and then I looked down at myself, sitting up straight in the chair, my fingers gripping the arms, and I realized just exactly how nervous this entire exercise has made me.

He waited another moment as I slowly exhaled and sat back in the chair, consciously letting go of the arms and then resting my hands in my lap.

" _Okay, I'm guessing this is your first time,"_ he said. _"So let me tell you a few things. One, I'm here for you, not the marshal service. I'm on your side. Two, nothing you say leaves this room, not even in a report to your superiors. I'll fill out a yes or no form, that's it. No details."_

I nodded appreciatively, already feeling a little bit better because the thought of anything I say ending up in my USMS file is a little daunting.

" _And?_ " I prompted when he didn't continue.

" _There's an_ _ **and**_ _?"_

" _You said a few things, and yet you only listed two."_

He smiled fully and said, " _Can't slip anything past you law enforcement types."_

" _You wanted to see if I'm paying attention?"_

" _It's usually a_ _ **here because you have to be**_ _or_ _ **here because you want to be**_ _thing,_ " he admitted. _"I like to know the difference_."

" _Because I have to be,_ " I said unequivocally. " _But that doesn't mean I don't take it seriously."_

" _Good."_

" _Or that I can't appreciate how it might be helpful,"_ I added.

" _Even better,"_ he stated, clasping his hands together and then saying, " _The third thing is that there's no judgement here. You say what you feel like saying, without worrying about what I may or may not think about it."_

" _So you just listen,"_ I said dubiously. _"With no opinion whatsoever."_

" _I listen with the intent of offering helpful advice. Or sometimes you find it for yourself, once you've said words out loud that maybe you were afraid to say."_

" _Hmm…how about we start with whatever you need to know to make your evaluation?"_ I hedged.

Because if we get into my daddy issues, this is going to turn into an all-day affair, and honestly, I don't see what my father has to do with me being attacked by Flowers, or about me being ready to go back to work – which I am, by the way – so there's no need to dig too deeply into my scarred psyche.

" _You have a black eye,"_ he pointed out, apparently deciding not to argue with my plan for therapy light. " _And you sat down rather stiffly. I'm guessing you have more bruises that I can't see. Let's start with you telling me how it happened."_

I don't mind talking about Flowers, so I gave him the whole rundown. The ambush, the ploy to get Lauren involved, the assault…I did skip the part about she and I discussing killing Flowers while he was unconscious on the floor, but I was pretty open about everything else.

" _I feel like I'm reading a report,"_ he said when I finished my account.

" _Yeah, so?"_

" _So…how does it make you_ _ **feel**_ _?"_

" _I feel fine,"_ I said with a shrug. " _A little sore, I guess."_

" _Sure, but I don't mean physically. I mean how do you feel? Violated, since he came into your home? Angry at Detective Bernard, since you were a pawn used by her adversary?"_

" _No."_

" _You don't feel anything? Scared? Frustrated? How about the fact that he overpowered you? You don't feel incompetent? He hit you! He touched you! You don't feel…outraged?"_

And yeah, that's when I got pissed off.

" _You smug son of a bitch,"_ I said as I got to my feet. I stabbed a finger in his direction, and went on a rant.

" _A man twice my size got the upper hand on me, when I was unarmed, in my own home, and that's supposed to make me feel incompetent? Hell no. I feel pretty damn good about the fact that he's the one who left my apartment in a body bag, not me. And not only that, but I kept Lauren from getting hurt. So yeah, I let him do what he did to me, but it my decision, for_ _ **her**_ _, so that puts the power back in my hands, don't you think? Bill Flowers broke into my home with a six-inch knife, and manipulated himself into a situation where he had two guns, and two women at his mercy, but look how that ended up for him. And you think I should feel scared or frustrated? Fuck him, and his mind games. I don't feel anything but vindication for Lauren."_

" _Okay then,_ " he said, sitting back in his chair. " _That's better._ "

" _That's…better?"_

" _You're feeling. That autopilot crap wasn't working for me, and it wasn't going to work for you."_

" _So, what, you were just poking at me, trying to incite a response? What kind of bullshit is that?"_

" _I find that most people are more forthcoming when they're angry."_

" _I can't believe my friends recommended you,"_ I muttered.

" _Did you think I was going to check my little boxes without knowing how you really feel?"_ he countered. " _Put you back in the field, when you might be susceptible to flashbacks? What if the next guy you try to arrest puts up a fight? Are you going to go overboard because you're still trying to hurt Flowers?"_

" _Flowers is dead,"_ I fired back, even though my temper is waning. I'm not sure why I thought therapy would be easy, or why I immediately assumed he'd want to get all Freudian on me.

" _Yes, he is. Because Lauren killed him in your apartment after he nearly raped you."_

" _Better me than her."_

" _You're a hell of a friend."_

" _I can deal with it_ ," I explained. _"Another attack might've been too much for her to handle."_

We stared at each other for a long minute, and we seemed to silently come to a truce because then he quietly asked me, " _You have a boyfriend, is that right?"_

" _How do you know that?"_

" _I guess you could say I run in the same circles as Mike Cutter. As several of your friends, actually."_

" _And people don't have anything better to talk about than me and Mike?"_

Okay, so my annoyance is still right on the top edge of my emotions.

He smiled and said, " _He's considered to be quite the catch, or so I hear. Him being off the market was big news around the office."_

I don't know why, but that comment served to settle me down a little more.

Somewhat.

I still don't like being here.

" _Why do you ask me questions when you already know the answer?"_ I posed.

" _Because I could be wrong."_

" _Or making me say it somehow changes things,"_ I said. " _Yes, I'm dating Mike Cutter. Happy?"_

" _I'd say the question is are you happy?"_

" _If I weren't, I wouldn't be dating him."_

" _Inspector,"_ he said on a sigh, and suddenly I started to feel bad about my obstinacy.

I know why he asked about Mike. I know where he's going.

" _I'm in love with him. Things are great between us,"_ I said. " _But no, we haven't resumed sexual activity yet."_

That worries me. In the nearly five weeks we've been sleeping together, not more than twelve hours have passed without us having sex.

Now it's been three days.

" _Why not?"_ Skoda asked.

" _Well, we spent Monday night in the hospital. And he's been recovering from a gunshot. I have bruised ribs."_

" _So neither of you are physically up to it,_ " he reasoned.

I started to lie, to agree that was the problem, but then I figured, what the hell? I'm here. I may as well talk.

" _That's not it,_ " I answered. _"It's…um…it's me."_

" _Because of the attack?"_

" _Yes, but not because of why you think. It's not the intimacy itself."_

So then I told him about how I've been afraid to lean on Mike too much. Afraid to need him. Afraid, after the assault, to let him help me heal rather than just healing myself.

" _And why do you think that is?_ " he pressed when I finished.

So that's how we ended up exactly where I knew we would: talking about my father.

For the love of God, how old do I have to be before I can get that damn paternal monkey off my back?

I hate that I can't just let it go.

" _So you're afraid that by…well, by being a true partner to Mike, by letting him comfort you when you need it, reassure you when you need it…letting him do those things will make you exactly what your father said you'd be. A typical woman dependent on a man for happiness and fulfillment."_

" _Well…yes,"_ I said simply, although his use of the word partner has me re-evaluating. It's more a term I can relate to. Partner. I have one at work, one I trust with my life, and trusting her doesn't make me weak or inferior.

 _Just like loving Mike doesn't make me weak_ , I thought. It's like I _know_ that and yet I keep coming back around to it, like I can't quite believe it.

" _What do you think?"_ I asked, since he still hasn't said anything more.

" _I think your father should be the one on my couch instead of you,_ " he responded with irritation clearly directed at my father. " _Look, Jennifer…you don't need me to tell you how ridiculous his point of view is. And clearly you're trying to move past it, since you're in a relationship. What you experienced on Monday night, the helplessness and vulnerability, is making you look to Mike for support, and while that might not be an everyday occurrence for you, I can tell you, that's exactly what healthy couples do – they lean on each other. They reassure one another. One day, the man might be weak while the woman is strong, and the next day, it's the other way around. It's called give and take for a reason."_

" _Okay,"_ I said with a nod.

" _And I think you should visit your father. Take Mike, or don't, but you haven't seen your dad since just after college, right?"_

" _That's right. It's been seven years."_

" _I'm betting if you face him now, not to apologize for your life choices or to expect him to have a different philosophy, but just to see him…I think you'll find that you've made him more significant in your mind, and you'll diminish his ability to affect your future decisions."_

We finished the session with another walk-through of Monday night, and the second time, I even told him about our _we could just shoot him_ talk, to which he responded, _that sounds perfectly normal to me_ , and by the time we were done, he had me laughing.

" _So how'd I do, Doc?"_ I asked as he walked me to the door. " _Are you giving me the green light, or do I have to come back?"_

" _There isn't a thing wrong with you to keep you from properly doing your job,"_ he said.

" _But?"_

" _No buts. I mean that,"_ he said, then he grinned and said dramatically, " _But get your father out of your head. He doesn't belong there. If you and Mike Cutter don't work out, make it be because you're incompatible, not because of some wacko theory of your father's about independence."_

So that's why I'm out on the sidewalk, debating about going to visit Mike.

It's the middle of the work day. Not quite even lunch time, actually. But I miss him. And I want to see him, to talk to him, to explain why I've been keeping him at a distance lately in spite of living in his home.

And yet…

" _Monogamy is a fallacy created by women desperate to hold onto a man, and men too weak to argue. It's complete bullshit, Jay. You shouldn't need anyone but yourself."_

My father's words were so clear in my head, it was if he were standing next to me on the sidewalk, and I finally stopped turning in indecisive circles as I flashed back to that conversation.

" _You got married,_ " is what I said to him, with the rationale of an innocent preteen.

" _Because I wanted a son. It was a means to an end,"_ he said dismissively. " _And look how well_ _ **that**_ _turned out."_

" _So you never loved my mother?"_

" _She was convenient,"_ he reasoned. " _She was good in bed and willing to put up with my crap."_

Mike's good in bed. And he puts up with my crap. So that means…what? I'm just like my father?

"Not a chance in hell," I said out loud in annoyance.

I love Mike. I mean, I _really_ love him. Like, I don't want to ever be without him kind of love.

So I turned around once more and headed in the direction of his office.

Twenty minutes later, after a thought-conducive and vigorous walk, I was about to climb the steps to the DA's office when Mike came out the front door.

And God, just the sight of him sends my insides into chaos. He's carrying his suit jacket, and I'm not sure if it's because he couldn't get it on, with the sling, or because he knew how warm it is outside, but either way, I love how he looks in just the tailored slate blue shirt tucked into navy slacks. So masculine and sexy.

He took three steps before he saw me, and then a smile lit up his face.

"It's a good thing you never come to see me in court," he said, hustling down the rest of the stairs to where I was waiting at the bottom.

"Why is that?"

But instead of letting him answer, I kissed him.

Not a _we're on the sidewalk_ hello kiss, either, but a _we haven't had sex in three days and it's my fault and I'm really sorry but I'm ready now_ kind of kiss.

I'll give him points for keeping up, especially since we're in view of his office.

"Are you okay?" he asked when I finally put a pin in my desire.

"I guess you can't take lunch right now, can you?"

"Uh…" he paused, checking his watch and then looking back at me with concern. "Let me make a call. I can reschedule with Judge Schuler, and…"

"No," I interrupted quickly, even though I love that he's so willing to rearrange his life for me. "I don't want you to do that. It's not an emergency, it's just…"

I trailed off, kissing him again as I grabbed onto his belt and pulled him flush up against me, and then I whispered, "I want you."

I watched his eyes as recognition was replaced with desire, and I love the husky quality of his voice when he responds, "If you can give me an hour, I'm all yours."

"For the rest of your life?" I posed, and I don't know what in the world made me say that because that's way too much of a commitment for us at this point, but the question didn't seem to bother him at all.

In fact, his eyes darkened and he leaned in, bringing his lips close to mine as he said, "For the rest of my life," and then we kissed a third time, and oh my God, I want so badly to throw all inhibitions to the wind, and just have him right here on the sidewalk, or better yet, we can go back to his place and lock ourselves away for the next few weeks.

"So you're okay?" he asked when we finally parted. "The session with Dr. Skoda went well?"

"It went better than I expected. I don't suppose you'd be interested in going with me to Texas."

I'm not sure yet if I want to take Skoda's advice on that, but I figured I'd throw it out there, because if I _do_ go, I definitely want Mike to go with me.

And not because I'll need him with me.

Because I _want_ him with me, all the time.

"I'll go anywhere with you," he said without hesitation, and damn if that doesn't just make me love him more. "I'm guessing it's not for sightseeing. You want to see your dad?"

"Maybe. We'll talk about it tonight, I promise. Now go, before you're late. I don't want to be responsible for a judge being upset with you."

"Yeah, I need to be there in about three minutes," he said, checking his watch again. "You're sure you're…"

"Mike, go."

"You're going home?"

"No, I'm feeling out of the loop. I think I'll go over to 1PP, see who's hanging around the squad room, catch up on some gossip. And check on Lauren."

She's at work, but on a desk, so I know she'll be there and I'm curious to hear how _her_ session with Skoda went.

"Perfect. I need to go by there after I finish with the judge anyway, so I'll meet you there. Maybe around noon? And then I'll take the afternoon off."

"Can you do that?"

"Sure, my arm is starting to feel a little sore, and I wouldn't want to overdo it," he said with a grin, then he kissed me once more, keeping it chaste this time, before saying softly _, I love you_ , and then heading on his way.

I watched him go, staring at the perfectness of his backside for a full minute before going in the direction of 1PP.

I bumped into the Logans on my way in, as they were escorting a frou-frou woman into the building.

"You can't do this to me!" she was shouting. "I'll have your badges!"

"Hey, Jennifer!" Logan said amicably, as if the woman weren't spewing obscenities at him and Carolyn. "You picked a good time to stop by. Park Avenue princess here is about to confess to attempted murder for hire."

"So this is Cecilia's mom? And she really did it?" I asked in surprise, looking at the woman with renewed interest and disgust.

"Stop saying that! I don't even know this Cecilia person!"

"She doesn't realize there's this new thing called DNA," Carolyn mock-whispered to me.

"You don't mind the audience?" I asked. "I've still got more than a week of leave, and I can't do daytime soaps."

"You might not want to watch this one, then," Logan said with a grin. "She's as drama as it gets."

"Get your hands off me!" the woman was yelling, even though Carolyn only barely had a hand on her arm.

"Yeah, but fun drama," I replied, matching his smile, and there's just something about the excitement of the moment, combined with my scheduled rendezvous with Mike, and my earlier session with Skoda…I'm feeling better now than I have in a really long time.

Since before my pregnancy scare, which I'm thinking wouldn't be so scary anymore. A baby with Mike isn't crazy or farfetched.

It sounds more like a welcome part of our future.

"Then come on in, Inspector," Logan said, his playful, upbeat tone breaking through my thoughts. "There's gonna be fireworks."

 **TBC...**

 ** _Next Up: Bobby_**


	46. Chapter 46

**Bobby POV**

* * *

" _ **I'm telling you for the thousandth time. I'm not her mother. I don't know her. I didn't try to have her killed."**_

I stared through the glass at Vanessa Montgomery Hastings - with her flashy yet real diamonds and her expensive haircut and her Italian suit, all of which go perfectly with her holier-than-thou attitude and denials – and it made me grateful for my own mother.

I mean, sure, she had her problems. But she never denied being my mother. And she loved me, even if sometimes she had trouble showing it.

I glanced over to where Cecilia is sitting on a stool that was brought into the observation room just for her. Liz is right behind her, with a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Mulder is next to her, his fingers entwined with hers.

Jennifer is here, too, along with Mike Cutter. Lupo and Bernard. Lauren. Connie. Ross.

And of course, Alex is right next to me.

Where else would she be? Even before we were _us_ , she was always by my side. I can't believe she isn't sick of me by now, but for some reason, she still seems to enjoy my company, still laughs at my subtle jokes.

She even breaks the rules, holding my hand when we're in the car, and sneaking kisses at random moments.

Like yesterday, when we were investigating Liz's suicide that isn't. Our second one of late, by the way, if you count the Wall Street guy's stepdaughter that we pawned off on Lauren and Eames, and I have to admit, I'd been hoping for something a little more exciting.

Anyway, we went to the morgue to go over Liz's suspicions with her, after catching the case from Ross, and just as I was about to push open the door to the autopsy suite, Alex stopped me with a light hand on my arm.

" _Hang on,_ " she said after I looked at her questioningly.

" _What is it?"_

But she didn't answer. Instead, she looked in both directions before going up on her toes, and sliding one hand around the back of my neck, tugging me downwards until our lips met.

And let me tell you, a kiss from her can change my whole perspective.

It makes me wonder how my life would be different if only I'd pulled my head out of my ass a lot sooner than last fall.

Although I guess I don't really have to wonder. I'd be like I am now: happy as hell.

" _What was that for?"_ I asked her with a smile when she eased back down to her normal height.

" _Do I need a reason?"_ she responded coyly, and that feeling went through me again, that joyful almost giddy feeling I get when it hits me how happy she is, too.

" _Never,"_ I answered, and then for good measure, I leaned down and kissed her again.

" _Now I see why it's called the Goren rule."_

I only felt mildly guilty over getting caught, especially since it wasn't our boss but rather the extremely amused boss' son.

" _Who told you about that?_ " Alex asked Aaron, playing off our minor transgression.

" _Jeremy. Dad. Everyone,"_ he answered with a shrug. " _But don't worry, I won't bust you."_

" _Good to know,_ " Alex said, and then she really surprised me by grabbing my tie and pulling me back for one more quick kiss.

" _So are you going in, or are you going to stand in the hall and make out all day? Because some of us have to work, you know,_ " he said, gesturing towards the door, and indicating that we're blocking his path. Of course, he's still smiling from ear to ear.

" _We're going in,_ " I said while at the same time Alex said, " _Making out all day is an option?"_

Aaron barked out a laugh and shook his head, while I looked at Alex curiously because I don't know what's gotten into her, but she just smiled at me and then eased past me to push open the door, and just like that, we were back to business.

It was later when she told me she was just feeling grateful to have me. She was thinking about the husband of our victim, and how devastated he was to lose his wife, and for some reason that made her feel like she doesn't express to me enough just how much she appreciates me, how much she loves me.

Of course, I disagree, but at the same time, I'm certainly not going to complain about her spontaneous shows of affection. She can kiss me anywhere, anytime she feels the urge.

 _Right now, even_ , I thought with an internal smile, and as I had the thought, I glanced down to find Alex looking back up at me, and I would swear she knows exactly what I'm thinking, because she's got this playful, dangerous expression on her face.

Although maybe she doesn't know I'm thinking about her kissing me.

Maybe she just enjoys watching the Logans make their suspect squirm.

But then her gaze shifted down to my lips briefly before moving back to my eyes again, and she quirked her eyebrow at me mischievously. I don't know how the woman can read my mind, but she can and she's been doing it for years, and it honestly makes me a little bit hot. Okay, it makes me a lot hot.

But we're at work, and like I said, everyone's here with us in the observation room, so I need to get my mind back where it belongs.

On Cecilia, and the interrogation going on next door.

Looking at Cecilia again, though, she seems relaxed, and as I glanced around the room, I decide that maybe she really doesn't care whether or not her mother acknowledges her, because Lord knows she has plenty of family now, and I can't imagine she would ever find much use for a snob like Vanessa.

" _ **You can tell me another thousand times, but that doesn't mean I'm going to believe you,"**_ Carolyn's soft voice came through the intercom. _**"Remember that DNA I mentioned? It's being processed as we speak and we all know exactly what the results are going to be."**_

" _ **So listen up, lady,"**_ Logan added smartly. _**"The faster you get out in front of this, the better. Explain why you put out the hit. Was she trying to shake you down, is that it? She found you and realized you have money, so she's putting on the squeeze, to make you pay?"**_

" _ **Why are you so dead set on blaming me for whatever happened to that little street urchin? Have you talked to the father? Maybe he's the one behind it."**_

And those words caused everyone in the observation room to hold their collective breath, because her frustration is about to make her confess more than she intends, and I can't wait to hear it.

" _ **It's you,**_ " Logan pressed. " _ **We know it's you."**_

" _ **No!"**_ Vanessa shouted. _**"Don't you get it? He's just making it look like it's me!"**_

" _ **He who?"**_ Carolyn asked.

" _ **Giovanni! Who else?"**_

" _ **Giovanni…"**_

" _ **Pirelli,"**_ she finished in annoyance. " _ **I thought you guys were supposed to be detectives, so why haven't you been able to figure out who her father is?"**_

" _ **Oh, we know,"**_ Logan said with a grin. " _ **We just wanted to see if you know. And since there's really only one way you could know..."**_

The pause was weighty and lasted several long seconds, and then Vanessa finally waved him off.

" _ **Fine. Whatever. Yes, I'm the brat's mother, is that what you want to know?"**_

" _ **Hang on,"**_ her lawyer interrupted. " _ **This is off the record."**_

" _ **Off the record? What are we, reporters?"**_ Carolyn replied smartly.

" _ **You can't disclose information she gives during an interrogation."**_

" _ **Having the press find out that you gave up a child for adoption is going to be the least of your worries,"**_ Logan said in a threatening voice. " _ **Because there's no law against that. But hiring out an attempted murder…that's some serious time, and we're not talking about serving it out in Club Fed, either."**_

" _ **Wait, wait, hang on!"**_ Vanessa yelled. _**"Just because I said I gave birth to her doesn't mean I know who or where she is, and I certainly wouldn't have any reason to try to kill her. I'm telling you, it wasn't me."**_

"Maybe she's telling the truth" Cecilia spoke up, her voice soft in the previously silent room.

"No," Liz said, beating me to it. Probably beating all of us to it, because I don't think there's a single person in this room who believes Vanessa is innocent. "She knows who and where you are, because I told her. Back when I thought she might do the right thing. So those are lies right there. I'm not even sure she knows how to tell the truth."

" _ **So it was Giovanni Pirelli,"**_ Carolyn said, picking up the thread. " _ **Who lives in Boston. Where Cecilia lives. So tell me again why he'd have someone follow her to New York to try to kill her. Why not just off her in their own city?"**_

" _ **It's a set up,"**_ she insisted. " _ **To make me look guilty."**_

"You don't need _him_ to make you look guilty," Jennifer muttered.

" _ **No, see, here's the thing,"**_ Logan said. _**"Pirelli doesn't give a rat's ass about having a kid, one way or another. He probably has a dozen of them, so one more doesn't bother him as long as she doesn't ask him for money."**_

" _ **But you care,"**_ Carolyn finished. _**"A lot."**_

" _ **But wait, if she lives in Boston, how would I know where to find her in New York?"**_ Vanessa posed, and then she sat back and smiled victoriously, clearly thinking she's won.

"Good question," Jeremy remarked.

"I don't think the Logans would be this confident if they haven't already figured out the answer to that one," Mike Cutter said with a wry smile, his eyes fixated on the other room. His arm is still in a sling and he has a knot on his head from where he hit the counter on the way to the floor in Jennifer's bathroom, but I have to say, he looks happier than I've ever seen him.

Funny how we all kind of look that way these days.

Deliriously happy.

Shifting my gaze back into the interrogation room, I see that expression on Mike's face, too. Satisfaction and contentment.

As I watched, he caught his wife's eyes and they shared a moment, and I know that feeling exactly, of being in the room with a suspect just before the _a-ha_ moment, and being able to experience that with your partner is great, but when the partner is also the person you love…well, let's just say it's quite exhilarating.

" _ **Social media,"**_ Logan said at last. _**"You were curious. You searched for her on Facebook, and once you found her, you couldn't stay away from her page."**_

" _ **And before you deny it, we've looked through your computer, so don't waste our time, okay?"**_ Carolyn stated firmly. _**"You knew when she was coming to New York. You knew she decided to drive this time, instead of taking the train. And on Sunday evening, she posted a picture of her and her boyfriend, with the location tagged. You sent your lackey to the bar, and then he followed them home, waiting until she left alone so that he could run her off the road."**_

" _ **You got all that from the fact that I looked at her Facebook page? So what? You're right, I was curious but that's all. I wasn't stalking her. I don't care about her or her dorky boyfriend."**_

"Ouch, that was a little harsh," Mulder said, causing the rest of us to chuckle.

"Handsomely dorky," Cecilia corrected, making Mulder smile even bigger, although then her face clouded over as she said, "I shouldn't have been posting stuff. At least, not my location. I didn't even think about that, and I should have."

"This isn't on you, Cilia," Mulder assured her. "I mean, yeah, from now on we'll tweak the flippers and send up a fish, but still…it's not your fault she turned out to be a nut job."

"He's right," Jennifer said. "From now on, flippers and fish, but don't feel bad about what happened."

She could barely get through her statement without laughing, and she had the rest of us going too as she managed to say, "What the hell does that even mean? Flippers? Fish?"

"Guys, hey, look," Jeremy interrupted after a moments of laughter. He pointed at the glass and we all tuned back in to see Mike going for the throat.

" _ **We have his statement,**_ " Logan said boldly.

" _ **Whose statement?"**_ the lawyer asked.

" _ **The boy she seduced into doing her bidding,"**_ Carolyn supplied purposefully.

"They caught the guy who was driving the car?" Mulder asked, looking at me with his question.

"Not that I know of," I answered. "I'm pretty sure it's a strategic lie."

" _ **You emailed him,"**_ Logan continued. _**"And then you called him within minutes of seeing Cecilia's post on Sunday evening."**_

The color drained from Vanessa's face, and Carolyn put the final nail in the coffin.

" _ **He's in the room next door, writing it all down,"**_ she said smoothly.

" _ **He's lying,"**_ Vanessa attempted. " _ **Mark has a crush on me, and he got upset when I turned him down, and…and…"**_

"And now they'll catch the guy driving the car," Alex said proudly. "How many Marks can Vanessa know?"

" _ **Please, just stop,**_ " Logan said, shaking his head at her condescendingly. _**"It's over. You know it. We know it. This pathetic scrambling of excuses is beneath you."**_

Of course, that sparked off a slew of insults aimed at the Logans, and the lawyer tried to calm his client down, but she was on a rant, so Mike and Carolyn just sat back and let her talk.

"Wow, you know, at first I was surprised to hear she hooked up with a sleazy mobster, but after listening to her…" Bernard began, but then he trailed off briefly before saying, "I didn't mean anything by that. I just…I mean…it's…"

"Stop talking, honey," Lauren said in a loud whisper, throwing a smile in Cecilia's direction, something that told me they've had a personal discussion or two, especially when Cecilia smiled back.

"I've come to realize that it doesn't matter who my parents are," she said. "I wanted to see this, to hear her admit it, and for her to confess what she did, but once we leave here, I'm done with her."

"Amen to that," Jennifer said.

" _ **Alright, fine!**_ " Vanessa shouting, her voice reverberating through the speaker. " _ **Yes, I wanted her dead. The last thing I need is some foster home trash wanting to come around and call me Mommy. So yes, I asked Mark to run her off the road. Little bastard couldn't even get that right."**_

Her confession was spoken over top of her lawyer's objections, but that's irrelevant. She'll be going away for a while.

"Another one bites the dust," Ross said as he clicked off the speaker.

"Are you okay?" Liz asked Cecilia.

"I'm great. Really, really great," she said, squeezing Mulder's hand as she turned on the stool to look at Liz. "I'm feeling better, I have a new job as soon as I'm ready, I'm going to be moving to New York, and now I can put this whole Vanessa thing behind me."

"Good girl," Lupo said. "And whenever you're ready to move, you know you have all the help you need, right?"

As he said it, he bumped Jeremy, making him take a step closer to Cecilia.

"See?" Bernard said on a chuckle. "Jeremy already volunteered for the job."

"I think this calls for a celebration," Ross said with a grin. "Drinks are on me tonight."

"Did we suddenly hit the lottery?" Liz joked.

"Can we go _now_?" Lauren asked.

"Finish the work day first. You still have another couple of hours," Ross said. "And the _first round_ is on me."

That earned him a groan from most of us, but a kiss from Liz, so I suppose he's a happy man, too.

The door to the observation room came open, and I thought it was Mike and Carolyn coming to gloat, but it was an officer from downstairs.

"Detectives Goren?" he said, looking back and forth between me and Alex. "There's a lawyer here who insists on seeing you. I gave him a visitor's pass and brought him up here. He's waiting in the conference room for you."

"A lawyer? Who?" Alex asked.

"His name's Chris Hanson. No worries, I checked his ABA card. He's legit."

The officer turned and left, but I stayed still for a moment, sharing an uncertain stare with Alex.

"This is your New Jersey attorney, right?" Lupo asked. "The one who killed that Polish girl?"

"Right. He confessed, and took a deal, but we gave him a week to get his affairs in order."

"Uh huh," Connie said, turning to look at me and Alex, too. "He still has four days."

"Maybe he's just ready to get it over with," Alex said with a shrug. "Come on. Only one way to find out."

Mike and Carolyn arrived just then, so most everyone stayed in the hall just outside the observation room, talking about the interrogation and subsequent confession, and I could hear their laughter as Alex and I went down the hall towards the conference room.

"Why am I getting a bad feeling about this?" I said to her under my breath.

"I don't know, but I don't like it. I mean, he's no threat. He came into a police station. He's a soft, white-collar milk toast who got caught up in hookers. So why _are_ you getting a bad feeling?"

"Because he's in desperation mode."

We entered the room, and found Hanson sitting at the table, his head in his hands.

 _Maybe he just wants to cry some more,_ I thought. Maybe I'm being paranoid. After all, he hasn't given us any reason to be concerned. So why am I all prickly with apprehension?

"You gave me a week to tell my wife," he said, still not looking at us. "A week. How am I supposed to have that conversation? How would I even start? _I love you honey, but I slept with a teenage hooker, and then I killed her to keep from being exposed about the other teenage hookers._ Yeah, that'd go over real well."

"Did you expect to stay married?" Alex asked rationally. "You're going to prison for murder. Your wife isn't likely to stick around."

"You don't get it!" he shouted, suddenly standing up and jabbing a finger in our direction. "This is my life! My _life_!"

"You need to settle down," I said calmly. "Just take a seat, and tell us why you're here."

He stared at me for a long minute, and then he shrugged and said, "I'm here to turn myself in."

"You already did that."

"I killed her."

"Yes," Alex said sternly. "We know. That's why you're going to prison."

Hanson's eyes shifted to Alex, and the hatred and desperation in his gaze made that prickly feeling come back to me in full force.

"You know what? I can't imagine anything more that we need to discuss, so I'm going to walk you back downstairs," I said, taking a step towards him.

"Don't come any closer," he threatened, causing me to stop in my tracks. "You're going to stand there and take my confession. I killed my wife and kids."

"You did what?" Alex said in alarm as my heart moved into my throat. "Why would you do that?"

"It was better than making her live with what I did," he reasoned. "And you know, this is all your fault. You could've just left well enough alone. Because you know I can't go to prison."

"So, what, you want to kill yourself?" Alex asked with forced calm, and I could see movement, what I'm assuming is her reaching for her cell phone.

Later, I might question why neither of us went for our guns, but the truth of the matter is that right then and there, I didn't think he had the balls to do what he did next.

Which is pull open his jacket to show what was underneath.

Explosives strapped to his waist.

"And since I have to die, it's only fair that I take you with me."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Jeremy**_


	47. Chapter 47

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

I think I have an eidetic memory.

I didn't use to. Is that something that can be acquired? Or learned? Or maybe I had it all along but just never paid attention before, I don't know.

All I _do_ know is that when I walked into the conference room, intent on delivering coffee to the Gorens since they were stuck in a meeting with that Hanson guy, and I saw them standing there with their hands in the air, and then I saw the bomb taped around the guy's midsection and a gun jammed in his belt, and I realized that in his hand was a device of some sort, presumably a detonator, when I saw all of that, I suddenly remembered every word of earlier conversations, the people – my friends – all talking in the hallway, blissfully unaware of the danger only mere yards away.

The DA and Inspector Dunn:

" _You never did tell me why you can't have me in court._ "

" _I can't_ _ **have**_ _you in court? See, you just created a whole new set of issues."_

" _Mike…"_

" _Sorry,"_ he said unapologetically. " _But yeah, I didn't tell you because_ _you kind of distracted me before I got to answer."_

" _And?_ " she said with a smile.

" _And that's exactly my point. You…are very…distracting."_

That last sentence was said in an extremely suggestive manner, and I had to glance over at them, just to witness the intense looks that passed between them.

Very hot.

Then I heard Liz and my dad.

" _I was only teasing about winning the lottery. You can buy your detectives all the drinks you want, whenever you want."_

" _You've seen them drink,"_ my dad replied playfully. " _Are you sure about that?"_

" _It's only money. As long as you're including a few shots of tequila in there for me, then it's all good."_

" _Tequila, huh?"_ he asked, moving closer to her than he usually does while at work. " _Is there a night on the balcony in my future?"_

At the time, I remember thinking _ew, gross_. But now, replaying the conversation in my mind while staring at a man strapped with C4, I can't help but think how much I like the fact that they're so in love.

And I don't know what these flashbacks of conversations mean, or why they're flying through my mind at warp speed while everything else seems to stand still.

But that's what's happening.

Lauren and Bernard.

" _I'm sorry I wasn't here when you got back from Skoda's. How'd it go?"_

" _Well, I'm sure he thought we were going to talk about the shootings, but what he got was mostly my mother."_

" _She wasn't that bad,"_ Bernard said on a chuckle. " _She wasn't Vanessa bad."_

" _Well, I suppose that's true. She hasn't tried to have me killed. Yet."_

" _I'm pretty sure it's me she wants to kill,"_ he responded, and the two of them laughed quietly for a moment before Lauren said, " _How soon can you get out of here?"_

 _"You heard the boss. We still have another two hours."_

It was obvious neither of them were thrilled about that, and I'm sure it's because Lauren's tied to a desk and Bernard is between cases.

" _Two_ _hours of paperwork,"_ she groused. _"Or…"_

I couldn't hear anything after that because she was whispering something into his ear. Something suggestive, judging by the look on his face.

My money's on them making a break for it as soon as my dad goes back to his office.

Not that he really cares. He trusts his detectives to work when there's work to be done.

Anyway, as that conversation faded from my mind, I thought about Maddie.

Beautiful, smart, sexy Maddie.

She's not here at the moment, but she called me a couple of hours ago, just before I went in to watch the Logans interrogate Vanessa.

" _What time do you get lunch?"_

" _I think I have to skip it today,_ " I told her.

" _Oh. Um…okay,"_ she said with unmasked disappointment, and I have to say, even though I didn't plan on her getting the wrong idea, the fact that she _did_ and she's disappointed makes me feel good. Maybe that's messed up, I don't know, but it's the truth.

" _No, I mean, I'd love to meet you for lunch,_ " I corrected. _"It's just that the Logans brought in the crazy woman who may or may not be Cecilia's birth mother, and they're going to interrogate her about whether or not she hired some guy to run her off the road, and I really want to see what happens."_

" _Oh my God, you're living a soap opera,_ " she said, laughing lightly but then she was serious again as she said, " _Cecilia's your friend, right? Mulder's girlfriend?"_

" _That's right."_

" _How's she doing with all of this? That has to be really hard."_

" _Yeah, I guess, but she seems alright with it. She's here at 1PP, too, getting ready to watch the interrogation."_

" _I hope it goes as planned,_ " she said with sincerity.

" _The Logans are good. If she's guilty, they'll get her."_

" _Good. Okay, well, maybe we can catch up tonight, if you want."_

I find it almost impossible to believe that someone as awesome as Maddie is into me. And not just into me, but apparently _really_ into me. Even after our mortifying first night together. Hard to believe that was only two days ago, although I think I've mostly managed to make up for it in the time since.

" _I definitely want,"_ I promised. " _I'll call you when I'm done."_

" _Hey, J?"_

" _Yeah?"_

" _I'm not pushing too much, am I? I mean, we just met, and you've been through some stuff, and you certainly don't owe me anything, just because we slept together._ "

Rampant insecurities brought about by abusive past boyfriends - that's what she confessed to _me_ yesterday, after I told her about Baltimore. And I know I can't be classified as a boyfriend yet, but whatever this thing we're doing, she's damn sure going to learn that real men don't treat women like that.

In fact, it was at that point that I seriously debated skipping the Vanessa interview so that I could see Maddie in person, but I wanted to be there in support of Cecilia.

" _You're right, I don't owe you anything, just like you don't owe me. But I like you, Maddie, and I want to spend more time with you."_

" _Okay,"_ she answered, and I could hear the smile in her voice. It was enough to make me smile, too, knowing that she's looking forward to seeing me as much as I am her, and thinking about her golden blonde hair and those dark blue eyes and her soft voice with the barely-there Midwest accent.

"Jeremy get out of here," Bobby said sharply, his voice bringing the rapid-fire replay to an end.

Now, standing stock still and staring at the man with the bomb, I can't help but wonder if the flashback was like some weird version of a near-death experience.

"No, Jeremy," the man said snidely. "Looks like we're all in this together. Put your hands up."

"Um…" I said with uncertainty, holding up the cups of coffees in my hands.

"Put them on the table," he ordered. "Slowly. And then get your hands up."

"He doesn't carry a gun," Alex said in annoyance. "Why does he need to hold his hands in the air?"

"Because I said so, you little bitch, now shut up!" Hanson shouted, and in those first few seconds after entering the room, I think maybe I was a little bit scared, but him yelling at Alex just pissed me off.

 _Another man who doesn't know how to treat a woman,_ I thought.

I could see Bobby clenching his jaw, and I have no doubt he wants to beat this guy to a pulp, but the gun in his waistband and the blocks of C4 are holding him at bay. And I don't know a lot about explosives, but I know enough to know that this guy has enough there to level this entire building.

And then of course, that made me think of everyone else. The ones out in the squad room. The ones who have no idea the danger they're in all because this stupid guy has some issue with the Gorens.

Since my memory's been dead-on this afternoon, I pulled up my mental file on this Hanson guy. He's the New Jersey DA who killed a young girl in order to help another killer get out of jail.

I know the Gorens felt sorry for him, so they gave him a week to get his affairs in order.

But none of those facts help me come up with a way out of this mess. And I appreciate Bobby telling me to leave the room, but like I said, with the bricks of C4 involved, I'd need to leave the whole building. Not that I would anyway. Not with them still in danger.

"So what are we doing here?" Alex asked, looking fairly calm in spite of the circumstances. "Are you going to make some kind of demands, or do you want immunity for killing your family, what?"

"What I want is for none of this to have happened," he fired back. "I wish you two had never walked into my office six months ago."

"Hey, how about you wish you never picked up an eighteen year old girl in forced prostitution," Alex shot back at him. "You remember Felcia, right? Or wait, I bet she wasn't even the first."

I'm not sure how ticking this guy off is part of their plan, but it seems to be because Alex keeps going at him while Bobby is in stealth mode, just analyzing and easing his body slightly so that he's closer to his wife.

I'm not sure what good he thinks he'll do, if that bomb goes off. Although, knowing him, I suppose he figures if he's going to die, it's going to be next to her.

"You don't know anything about me!" Hanson yelled. "You just sit back in judgment, as if you've never made a bad decision in your life."

"A bad decision? Is that what you call killing Paulina? And your wife? Your kids? That's like saying Charles Manson made a bad decision. Jeffrey Dahmer made a bad decision. Is that what you think? That they weren't just bat shit crazy?"

"You think I'm crazy?"

"You're strapped with C4 in One Police Plaza. What do you think?"

By this point, Bobby was close enough to Alex to be able to touch her, and for some reason, she suddenly stopped talking. I guess it was all a distraction, maybe to let Bobby get a better look at the guy's set-up, but from his expression, things still don't look good.

It made me start thinking about my life.

I haven't quite yet made it to twenty, so it doesn't seem fair that it might end today, and yet at the same, I really don't have any regrets.

I've turned my life around. I'm on the exact right path. I've made amends with my father, and now our relationship is better than I hoped it could be. Aaron and I are best friends, and I've been witness to the coming-into-his-own of my other best friend, Mulder. And maybe I don't have love at the moment, but I think I'm heading in the right direction.

All in all, I guess it could be worse. I could be standing here with should-have's rolling through my brain like crazy, but I don't.

"Hey, J-man, Cilia and I…"

That's all Mulder said as he burst through the door before he recognized the situation.

"Shit," I heard Bobby mutter, and I know he's thinking _another life at risk_ , and yet, again…it's a lot of fucking C4.

"Close the door and move over next to him," Hanson ordered.

Mulder did as he asked, but I noticed he never took his eyes off Hanson's contraption, and since he was staring so intently at it, I kept my eyes on Mulder.

I noticed the moment _he_ noticed something, and I suddenly felt a little more hopeful about our situation.

"Hey, asshole. You were about to tell me your demands, right?" Alex said sharply, pulling Hanson's attention back to her.

"I don't want shit," he said . "So if you want to say a prayer or something, just do it, so we can get this over with."

"Dude, it's a coaster," Mulder said quietly to me.

"Shut up!" Hanson said, holding out his hand with the detonator, like he was about to push the button.

Mulder didn't flinch.

 _Balls of steel or he knows something I don't_ , I decided. Or maybe a little bit of both because Hanson still has that gun within a split-second's grasp.

And then it hit me what Mulder meant. I looked over at him, and he gave me a look and I have to trust him because he's the smartest guy I know by a lot, so I nodded slightly and then shifted my eyes towards Hanson's waistband, where the gun's jammed in, and Mulder nodded back at me, and holy crap the adrenaline that pumped through me was about to make my head explode, but I reined it in and readied myself and as Alex captured Hanson's attention again – even though there's no way she knows what we're about to do – we did a quick, silent countdown, and then I suddenly hurled myself towards Hanson, and I was completely in sync with Mulder, and the two of us took the guy down to the ground amidst the protests of the Gorens, but I had the guy's left side, the detonator side, and Mulder had the right side, the free hand that could grab the gun side, and I held on for all I was worth, just in case the unlikely occurs and Mulder's wrong, and the guy was fighting us hard, bucking and rolling, and then I felt the added weight of Bobby as he attempted to flatten the whole pile, thus subduing the guy, and I was just about to shout out in victory when I heard it.

Not the boom of C4, thank God.

But still…the crack of a gun.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Liz**_


	48. Chapter 48

**Liz POV**

* * *

A gunshot is something that should never be heard inside a police station.

It sent a feeling of dread through me as I turned towards the direction of the sound, and realized that it came from the room where two of my boys are, as well as two of my best friends.

Guns were drawn as no less than half a dozen detectives headed for the conference room, and _wait here_ was shouted simultaneously by several of them, directed at me, and Connie, and Mike Cutter.

It's a strange contradiction of emotion, considering how upbeat and playful the overall mood was only moments ago.

" _So you're really okay?_ " I asked Cecilia as the group migrated into the squad room.

" _I promise. I'm really good,_ " she assured me. She scooted back onto the edge of Lauren's desk and set her crutches next to her before exhaling heavily. " _But I'm tired. It's ridiculous, since I've done nothing but lay around all week."_

" _You're body's still healing,"_ I said. " _You should go home and take a nap."_

" _I think I will. I want to rest up before Steve-O's, because I'm not missing out on free drinks."_

" _Free drink,"_ Danny corrected. _"As in singular."_

" _Oh, come on, boss,"_ Bernard teased. _"As good as we make you look, and one round is all we get?"_

" _And with all these mother issues, we could really use a lot more,"_ Lauren added, and then rolled her eyes with annoyance.

" _Oh, that's right,"_ Cecilia said. _"Your mom's in town. How'd that go?"_

" _Your mom's here?"_ I asked, turning to Lauren.

" _Yeah, she went to my old apartment last night."_

" _And thought I was Bernard,"_ Mulder filled in, then he looked at Lauren with mystification as he said, _"And she's scary."_

" _You aren't the one who had to have dinner with her,"_ Bernard remarked playfully, earning a swat from his wife, and then he added, " _No, she actually wasn't that bad."_

" _Yes she was,"_ Lauren countered. _"She grilled B for half an hour and then she turned it on me, wanting to know why we couldn't just live in sin instead of getting married."_

" _Unusual point of view for a parent,"_ Danny commented, and I like that he's getting involved in the personal conversation, even though it's a work day. The old Danny would've snapped his fingers and pointed at their desks before hiding away in his office.

This Danny, my favorite one, is leaned against Lupo's desk, looking relaxed as he joins in the discussion.

And by the way, I say favorite because even though I love him like he is now, I still loved him before, too. Even the asshole Danny who barely tolerated his detectives. I didn't like the way he _acted_ but I still loved him. I guess that's the real thing, when we overlook the other person's faults and love them anyway.

" _I know,"_ Lauren agreed. _"I figured she'd be happy that he made an honest woman out of me. But she has it in her head that B is only in it for the money."_

" _You have money?"_ I asked her.

 _"That's what I said,"_ Bernard responded with a shrug. _"I had no idea."_

" _That's because **she** has money,_ " she corrected. _"And I don't want any of it. So sorry, B, you're stuck with a modestly paid civil servant."_

" _No yacht? No summer home?"_ Bernard teased, then he turned to Cutter and asked, _"Hey, Mike, is it too late to get this thing annulled?"_

" _Not if you haven't consummated it yet."_

" _Yeah, I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed,_ " I remarked.

" _Isn't there an age of consent?"_ Mike Logan asked as he moved closer to the group.

" _It's eighteen,"_ Connie spoke up.

" _There you go, B. That's your way out, since she's not a day over twelve."_

" _You guys think you're so funny,"_ Lauren said with another eye roll. " _Anyway, as we speak, my mom is on her way back to Minnesota, so I feel like I've earned a few shots of tequila."_

" _Tequila, huh?"_ I asked with a smile, shifting my gaze over to my husband, and finding him grinning at me.

" _Okay, all the drinks are on me,"_ he acquiesced, sparking a round of intense discussion about just how much of a bar tab they could run up.

I noticed Cecilia try to hide a yawn, and Mulder saw it, too.

" _Let me get you home,_ " he told her. " _You can get a quick nap while I go back to the office for a little bit, and then I'll pick you up to go to Steve-O's."_

" _Sounds like a plan,"_ she agreed. " _I'm not sure how long I'll make it tonight, though. Maybe we can see if Jeremy and Maddie want to come back to our place afterwards. I need to meet her."_

I didn't comment on the fact that she said _our place_ , and Mulder didn't seem to catch it either. I love how comfortable he's gotten with her, and how well he's been taking care of her.

" _Great idea. Where's Jeremy anyway?"_ he asked as he looked around.

" _I sent him to get coffee for Alex and Bobby,_ " Danny answered. _"I figured that guy must be here to pour his heart out and beg for mercy, so it might take a while."_

" _Okay, I'm going to run tell him the plan, and then we're out of here."_

That was about five minutes ago, and now there's gun fire.

I stared down the hall, desperately wanting to go see for myself, but knowing my husband will kill me if I do, so instead I just waited, along with Connie and Mike Cutter and Cecilia. Those of us who were ordered to _stay put_.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute, albeit a long excruciating minute, I heard Danny's voice.

"Liz!"

Not comforting, since I don't know if he wants Liz the wife, mother, and friend or Liz the medical examiner.

"I'm coming with you," Mike said, and together the two of us hustled down the hall before skidding to a halt in the doorway.

It was hard to see anything, considering there were half a dozen people in front of us, each just now reholstering their weapons.

"What is it?" I asked as I pushed my way past them to find Jeremy and Mulder both sitting on the floor, Mulder with one hand over his ear. Between them was the man I presume to be Hanson, and he's sprawled out and screaming. Bobby's getting to his feet, holding onto what I think might be a bomb, and Alex is still knelt over the man, and that's when I realized that her hands are covered in blood.

"Bullet wound to the groin," she answered me, and then she said to Hanson, "You really need to shut up!"

"I've called for a bus," Danny told me as I moved over next to Alex, getting down on my knees for a better view of the injury.

"Ouch," I muttered as she raised her hands enough for me to see the damage. "Exit wound?"

"I haven't looked yet," she answered. "And don't feel sorry for him. The asshole wanted to blow up the whole building."

"Who shot him?" I asked as I began to roll him onto his side, but then Alex stopped me, shaking her head as she said, "He shot himself. Downward trajectory. The genius had the gun in his pants, with no safety on. Mulder and Jeremy tackled him and during the struggle, it went off."

"Mulder and Jeremy?" I questioned, looking up to check the status of my boys again.

"Hey, he said it was a coaster, so it was a-go, right?" Jeremy said with a shrug.

"A coaster?"

"You gotta know your C4, and this dude's just kiddie scripting, you know what I'm saying?" Mulder shouted, his hand still covering one ear.

"The gun went off pretty close to him," Alex explained. "Probably ruptured his ear drum."

"Yeah, and I'm shot, so can you focus on me please?" Hanson yelled.

"Or we could just let you bleed out," Alex warned, saying exactly what was on my mind because all I want to do is pull Jeremy and Mulder into a hug.

"Paramedics are on their way up," Danny announced. "So's the bomb squad. Be careful with that, Bobby."

"You think I'm not?" Bobby said, chuckling nervously.

"It's cool, you can't make that stuff blow!" Mulder told us. "Not without a charge! You can throw it against the wall if you want!"

"How about let's not?" Logan said uneasily.

"You were really going to blow up the building?" Lupo asked, moving behind me as I continued to put pressure on the wound. "What the hell is wrong with you? You haven't killed enough people already?"

"He blames us for getting caught," Alex explained.

"Well, yeah, sure," I said smartly. "It's not his fault for doing it, it's yours for figuring it out."

"Absolutely. But you know, I think it's fitting that he shot his dick off. At least we won't have to worry about him screwing any more young girls, if he ever gets out of prison."

"It's…it's….gone?" Hanson asked in agony.

"Oh, unfortunately, it's still there," I assured him as the paramedics came into the room.

"Tough to hit such a small target," Jeremy added, and his smartass remark combined with my relief at the situation had me laughing. I stepped aside to let the EMT's take over, and then I urged Jeremy to his feet and hugged him.

"What the hell were you thinking, tackling a guy strapped with a gun and a bomb?"

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? No, I'm just grateful you aren't hurt."

I let go of him and then knelt down to look at Mulder's ear. It was bleeding a little, and I think Alex is right in her assessment of a ruptured ear drum, but he'll be fine in a day or two.

"And you," I said as we stood up and I hugged him. "How do you know about C4? I mean, enough to be sure."

He smiled and shrugged, and said, "I just know stuff."

"Understatement of the year," I mumbled and then we all watched as the bomb squad arrived to take control of the contraption, and then the paramedics wheeled Hanson out of the room, and Danny ordered a couple of uniforms to stay with him until he's cleared for release, at which time he's going straight to prison.

After they were all gone, and Connie and Cecilia had joined us in the conference room, we were all quiet for an extended minute until Lauren spoke up.

"So, Chief, _now_ can we get out of here?"

"Best idea I've heard all day," Logan added.

"Right. Drinks on you, Chief," Lupo said.

"And after almost getting blown up and shot, I think I need a few," Alex said.

"At least a few," Bobby agreed.

"Yeah, Dad, can't we go get a drink?" Jeremy asked, grinning broadly and undoubtedly still reeling from adrenaline.

"Not you," Danny answered. "But everyone else, go – clock out and get out of here. I'll meet you at Steve-O's. We'll write up the incident report tomorrow."

I waited until all the others had filtered out of the room and then I grabbed my husband and hugged him tightly.

"God, that boy," I said quietly, my face buried against the crook of Danny's neck.

"And Mulder…what if he'd been wrong?"

"Then none of us would be here to know it," I answered with practicality. He hummed his agreement, still holding me fiercely, and I said, "I love how you handled this. I love that you let them all go early."

"It's been a hell of day," he reasoned.

"Yes, it has. So you're ready to go, too? Or do you need to go back upstairs first?"

"No, I'm ready. Let's go."

Forty-five minutes later, still well before five o'clock, no less than eighteen of us filled the back half of Steve-O's.

"This is where I've wanted to be all day," Lauren commented after taking a long drink of her beer. "For some reason, talking with Skoda made me want to drink."

"Me, too," Jennifer said on a laugh, holding up her glass to clink against Lauren's. "I think I'm better off when I don't dig too deeply into my own mind."

"Scary place to be," Mike agreed playfully.

"Don't I know it," she said. "Although honestly, drinking isn't the first thing I wanted to do after leaving Skoda's office."

"Okay, this is where I draw the line," Logan said. "No sex talk before the third round of drinks."

"How do you know I'm talking about sex?"

"Wait, third round?" Danny asked, looking at me as he said, "Did I really volunteer to pay for the whole night?"

"Don't worry, I'm only having one," Cecilia told him. "Maybe that'll make up for some of the others."

"Oh yeah, you never did get your nap," Connie said. "You must be exhausted."

"I'm tired," she agreed. "And Mulder could use a good night's sleep, too. He said his ear is still ringing."

I glanced over at Mulder, who was talking with Lupo, and was once again struck by how he's suddenly such a _man_.

Jeremy and Aaron are sitting across from him, listening attentively to their conversation, and I just love what a close knit group we've all become. As I was watching, I saw Jeremy's focus shift to the front door, and his entire face changed. Without looking, I knew it was Maddie.

"Where've you been, Omaha?" Mary called out to her, even as she scooted down so that another chair could fit between her and Jeremy.

"Omaha?" Maddie questioned, and I was curious to see how she would act around Jeremy while in front of everyone else, especially her partner. But to my pleasure, she interrupted her own conversation briefly, turning to Jeremy as she sat down, smiling at him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before looking back at Mary for an explanation.

Jennifer spoke up, though, to fill in the blanks.

"You must be from Nebraska. I'm from Texas so she calls me Austin."

"But I'm from Kansas," Maddie replied, to which Mary shrugged and said _same difference_ , making the rest of us laugh.

"You'll get used to it," Jennifer told her.

At that point, mini conversations cropped up all around the table, with most everyone moving from one to the next to the next without missing a beat.

Until Mary suddenly stopped completely, her eyes on the front of the bar, and it was like wind through wheat, how everyone shifted their focus to where she was looking, and then all at once, there were simultaneous scraping of chairs against the floor and the clicking of safeties being removed, as everyone got to their feet and drew their weapons.

Well, not me. Or the other non-law enforcement people present.

But still…as I turned to see what had caused the reaction, there were eleven guns pointed in the direction of the newcomer, while other patrons of the bar were hustling out of the building.

"You've got to be kidding me," I heard Alex mutter, and I'm right there with her because hasn't this day been harrowing enough?

Apparently not, because standing halfway across the bar, carrying a gun in each hand, both of them pointed in our direction, is Rocco.

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Mary**_

* * *

 _ **A/N: To my fellow football fans, yes, I wrote this chapter the day Peyton retired, so I couldn't resist a little hat-tip.**_


	49. Chapter 49

**Mary POV**

* * *

I knew this thing with Rocco was going to come to a head, but not now. Not like this. Not with everyone I care about in the same room, and the potential for bullets to fly.

Not with John here to witness what I might have to say in order to talk him down.

I wanted this to happen one-on-one. That's why I've been making myself available the past few days. I wanted him to have the opportunity, to save him from taking drastic measures.

 _Like pulling two 44 magnums in a bar full of law enforcement._

I'll give my counterparts their credit, though.

There was barely a second that ticked off between Rocco's armed entrance and guns being drawn.

 _What the hell is he thinking,_ I thought with annoyance. One itchy finger, and it could turn into a bloodbath.

Not that anyone has itchy fingers. None of _us,_ anyway. I don't know about Rocco's weaponry experience.

That's part of what makes me so nervous.

"I want you to come with me," he said after several interminable seconds.

"This is a hell of an invitation, Rocco," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "All you really had to do was ask."

"I've _been_ asking," he replied, clearly agitated. He has one gun pointed at me and the other is swaying from side to side, briefly targeting people at random.

"So this is what you do? You decide to drag me off at gunpoint? And then what?"

"Then we live happily ever after. I told you, Mary, it's destiny. Me and you, we're nine, the symbol of immutable truth."

"Rocco, put your guns down," John urged. "And then we can talk about this."

"No!" he yelled, shifting his aim from me to John, while the other still spent a second on each person…Cecilia then Liz then Ross then Jennifer…

"Okay, it's okay," I soothed. "So, we're nine."

"Exactly," he said with relief. "There's an electro-magnetic null zone that creates a vacuum area in space which changes the magnetic forces of creation. It's useless to fight it, Mary."

"Right," Mulder said. He slowly got to his feet and turned around to face Rocco, and from his position at the table, he's now the closest one to danger, and Rocco recognized the threat, I suppose, because his wandering aim stopped on Mulder, so now it's him and John who're the targets.

"Mulder, sit down," I directed calmly, even though on the inside, I'm starting to freak out. If he pulls either of those triggers…

"No, I'm saying, I get it," Mulder continued. "You want to save her, right? Because those who aren't interested in making the change won't be allowed to leave through the technology of death."

I have no idea what the hell Mulder's talking about, but Rocco seems to get it. He stared at Mulder, tilting his head as he worked to make sense of _someone else_ making sense to him, and then he lowered one of his weapons slightly. The one pointed at Mulder.

"You _do_ get it," he said.

Mulder nodded sincerely, and added, "But she's not your nine."

The gun came back up again as Rocco insisted, "Four and five. It's the world of spirit, the world of soul, and world of matter. Three times three. Four plus five."

"I understand you, I really do. But she's not your four."

 _I'm a seven, at least,_ I wanted to joke. I want this whole damn thing to be a joke.

Almost everyone at this table could've been blown up today. They could be dead. Why can't we just have an evening to relax and unwind without having to deal with another nut job?

And I know, it's Rocco. I care about him, and so does John, but God, his timing and his method really sucks.

"You need to stop talking," Rocco said suddenly, clearly not liking the direction of Mulder's discussion, which is odd because I thought they were making a connection. Unless it's because he doesn't want Mulder to be right. Rocco's decided he wants me, so he's making it fit his delusions rather than the other way around.

"Put your guns down, and I'll go with you," I offered.

"Mary, no," John said immediately.

"It's okay, I'll be fine," I promised.

"Don't pretend to care about her!" Rocco yelled. "For you, she's just a replacement, don't deny it."

And now both guns are aimed at John, and I'm not only starting to freak out, I'm fully there.

"Rocco, I said I'll go with you. Come on, let's go outside, and we'll talk."

"No, I want to hear him say it first."

"Say what?" John asked.

"Tell her the truth. Tell her that you don't love her. Set her free to be with me."

"I can't say that."

"John," I urged. "Just say it."

I took my eyes away from Rocco so that I could look at my husband, encouraging him to do as instructed.

But I know that he knows how much it'll hurt me to hear him say it, even knowing it's not true.

"Dude, it's not Mary," Mulder tried again.

"Listen to him," Bobby spoke up.

"Shut up, both of you," Rocco ordered, his gaze still on John. He's tense and edgy and I'm so scared that at any minute the gun's going to go off, whether he means for it to or not, and at such close range…

I looked at my husband again, pleading with my eyes as I said, "John, say it. We both know it's the truth. Say it and let me go so I can be with Rocco."

I might have only known John for a few months, but I _know_ him. I mean, I know every little tic and micro expression and I could see the moment he conceded. I could also see how much he loves me in his eyes, even as he said, "I'm sorry, Mary, but I never loved you."

"Keep going," Rocco said.

John closed his eyes for a second, and then powered through, saying, "You were just a substitute for Heidi. She's the only woman I've ever loved."

"See?" Rocco said victoriously. "I told you. Now put your gun on the table, Mary, and come with me. It's your destiny."

I held John's gaze for another beat, and then clicked on the safety before setting my weapon on the table.

"No one makes a move, no one follows us, no one even breathes until we've been gone for five minutes. Understood? Because I don't want to kill her, I really don't. But I will."

As Rocco was talking, he shifted his aim to each person, apparently wanting to get his point across, and while he was doing that, I felt something against the back of my leg.

I didn't want to look down, to call any attention to myself, but I shifted closer to Mike Cutter and maintained a neutral expression as he slid something into my back pocket.

He let his hand drop away from me just as Rocco finished issuing his warning, turning to face me again as he said, "It's time to go."

"Mary," John said under his breath, and it amazes me how much he can say with just those two syllables.

God, I love the man.

I know he wants to buy me a house, so damn it, I'm going to let him buy me a house. And we'll get a dog. Maybe two. And we'll have a kid. Maybe three. And I'm going to learn how to cook something edible so we can wake up on Sunday mornings and eat pancakes and read the paper together and listen to the kids playing in the backyard…

"Now, Mary!" Rocco said. "Or I'm just going to start shooting. How many do you think I'll kill before I'm dead?"

One, at the most, I decided, but that's one too many.

I moved around from behind the table and stood next to Rocco, and from this perspective, I'm a little unnerved by how far off the reservation Rocco must be. I mean, there are ten guns pointed at him. And he doesn't seem to care.

I looked around the table, hoping to reassure everyone, but I don't feel all that reassured myself, so it was a mostly futile effort, and then Rocco put away one gun, while keeping the other one aimed at John, and then using his free hand, he grabbed me by the arm and ordered me to walk, so I headed for the door while he walked backwards, making sure no one was going to shoot him in the back.

As I reached the door, Mulder said, "Be careful, Maryanne."

Maryanne?

Now I'm wondering if Mulder's lost _his_ mind.

Out on the sidewalk, Rocco quickly moved so that we were side by side, the gun beneath his jacket but still pointed at me, and we were halfway down the block before his stride faltered.

"Maryanne?" he asked, stopping and turning to look at me.

I have no doubt that everyone in Steve-O's is now out on the sidewalk, diving for cover since he stopped, so that they won't be seen, but his focus is completely on me.

"Why'd he call you Maryanne?"

I have no freaking idea.

But I'm sure it wasn't for nothing.

"That's my name," I answered.

"Your name's Mary."

"That's what people call me," I corrected.

"But…it's…"

He trailed off and I could see he was trying to work through something, his lips moving as no sound came out, and it finally clicked with me.

Sure, call me slow, because maybe I am, but at least I got it.

"That's why I'm not four. Maryanne has eight letters. And what's eight and five? Thirteen?"

At least, I _hope_ I got it.

Because he stared at me so long and hard that I found myself tensing up, just waiting for the shot that would blast a hole in my side.

"But it has to be you," he said in confusion. "I was so sure. The Council of Nine…"

He broke off again, and I felt his grip lessen as he began to doubt himself, and the gun shifted just slightly, and I took the opportunity to slide my free hand around to my back pocket to find what treasure Cutter had given me.

I almost laughed out loud.

I mean, literally, laughter nearly came bursting out of me, even though this situation isn't funny at all, and I just want to be back in the bar with my husband and friends instead of out here with this man who has this crazy misconception about the two of us…but still, I can't help it.

Because it's a fork.

Jennifer must have told him about the Bahamas.

Or really, it's probably just the best he could do in a pinch, thinking he'd give me something to help me out if the opportunity arose, and since Rocco's still in vapor lock, mystified by learning my name has more than four letters, I think now's that time.

I debated my course of action, and decided to leave the fork in my pocket for now. It may come in handy at some point, but for now, I only have the one free hand, and I'm going to need it.

See, for a woman, it's all about balance and leverage. I can take out any man, no matter his size, as long as I'm positioned right and go for the weak spots. Just ask Alex and Carolyn. Those two are half my size and still have no trouble going for the throat. It's about physics and human anatomy, so I can't let Rocco's height and weight deter me in the least.

As I gave myself a silent countdown, I felt movement behind us and I think even ahead of us, and I'm guessing that by now, the detectives and marshals have us surrounded, but I still don't want Rocco to get off any shots, so I pressed ahead with my plan.

"Thirteen is all about bad luck and misfortune, isn't it?" I said calmly, wanting to keep his brain occupied because a good distraction never hurts when looking to gain the upper hand.

And as he pondered that, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head, I made my move. I grabbed him around the wrist of his gun hand, pulling it all the way across my body in a swift movement, and at the same time, I slid my foot behind his, to keep him from stepping back for balance, and then I threw myself backwards, taking both of us down to the ground.

Hurts like hell, but it usually works like a charm.

He dropped the gun, because I heard it clatter onto the sidewalk, but I wasn't able to get him beneath me as I hoped, and suddenly we were wrestling for dominance, and I could hear the shouts of the others as they moved in, and then Rocco's hand reached out past my head, and I knew he was going for the gun, and my friends can't shoot him because we're too entangled, so I whipped out the fork and jabbed it as hard as I could into his outstretched arm. He screamed in pain, and I was able to flip him, getting my body on top of his and pinning him to the ground.

Bobby was the first one to us, and he kicked Rocco's gun out of the way, and then I felt Alex reaching between me and Rocco in order to secure the second weapon that was still tucked inside his pants.

"Clear," she said, once she had it.

"Okay, Mary, we've got him," Logan said, and then he shouted, "It's clear, John!"

I eased off Rocco, more than happy to let someone else take over because my head is throbbing, from where it hit the pavement, and as I got to my feet, there was John, tugging me into his embrace.

"You're okay?"

"I'm good," I promised, only partially listening as Carolyn read Rocco his rights, putting him in cuffs and hauling him to his feet.

"I love you. You know that, right? I love you so much," he said, holding me tightly.

"I know."

He held me another moment, and then we pulled apart, and turned to face Rocco. The fork is still in his arm, and the blood is dripping onto the sidewalk, so I'm sure they've called paramedics by now, but I can't find it in me to feel sorry for him. Not right now, anyway. He could've killed everyone I love.

"See? I told you I'm bad luck," I said to him.

"I was so sure," he said, still baffled by…well, by everything, I guess. But at least we caught him, and now he can get the help he needs, and I don't have to worry about him suddenly flipping out and trying to kill John in order to get to me.

"Hate to tell you, but my name _is_ Mary," I told him. "But I'm still bad luck."

"You're…it's…you _are_ the one!" he said in anger. "You lied to me!"

"I sure did."

"Rocco, you need help," John said quietly. "You need to get back on your medication. You aren't thinking clearly."

"I don't need anything from you," he spit out. He made a token effort to go after John, but he's still in the cuffs, and he still has the fork embedded in his arm, so it was a feeble attempt at best, and John merely took a small step back to avoid him.

"You want him, Mary, or do you want us to handle it?" Ross asked.

"If you can do it, that would be great," I said. "Bellevue, take care of the arm and do a seventy-two hour psych hold, and then we'll talk about charges. Is that okay, Mike?"

I turned to where Cutter had joined us on the sidewalk and saw him nodding in agreement.

A black-and-white had arrived on the scene by this time, so Ross gave them instructions and sent Rocco along with them, and after they pulled away, the entire group was quiet for a moment.

It just feels surreal. Probably no more than fifteen minutes has passed since he first showed up, and yet so much has happened. So many lives were at risk.

"I guess we should call it a night," Bernard said. "I'll go in and apologize to Steve-O, make sure he's willing to let us come back."

"What, you're all quitting on me just because some guy showed up with a gun?" I asked.

"Mary…" John began.

"No, it's free drinks on Ross tonight, and I don't know about you guys, but I could use another one, so let's get back to it."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked me.

"We all knew this was coming," I reasoned. "The fact that we got him into custody and no one got hurt…well, that was a best-case scenario."

"Well, he got hurt a little," Jennifer pointed out. "You did stab him with a fork."

"Thank you for that, by the way," I said, grinning as I nodded at Mike.

"I heard you have a predilection for flatware, so I figured I'd help you out," he answered wryly.

"I'm thinking they should be standard issue," Logan joked. "What do you think, boss? Forks for everybody?"

Ross laughed, shaking his head at the silliness, and then waved everyone back into the bar, and just like that, thirty minutes after it all began, we were right back to where we started, laughing and drinking and telling stories.

It turned out to be a great night, and my head was only still hurting a little by the time John and I got back to our penthouse.

"You, in the bed," he directed as soon as we were inside.

"You're going to order me around?" I challenged.

"Yes. You have a problem with that?"

Turns out, I don't. I went into the bedroom and stripped down and then climbed under the covers, sighing heavily as I relaxed against the cool, silky sheets.

Two minutes later, John came in, carrying a bottle of water and a couple of aspirin.

"How'd you know?" I asked him.

"I know everything there is to know about you," he said huskily, sitting down next to me as I swallowed the pills.

"Oh, really?"

"I know you took down a man twice your size without batting an eye. I know you were brave enough to go outside with him, just to get him away from our friends," he said, staring at me with admiration, and then he ran his hand over my hair and added, "And I know how much you hated hearing me say those words to you."

"I hated that you had to say it," I corrected. "But I'm okay with it. I know the truth."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you love me for my body and my super-sunny disposition," I replied playfully.

He moved his hand from my hair down to where the sheet rests against my shoulders and then he drew it away, leaving me bare down to the waist, and he took a moment to look at me appreciatively.

"I do love your body," he said, trailing his fingers across my breasts in a light, teasing manner. "But you know it's about so much more than that."

He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against mine, and it started out as adoration, but quickly moved into provocative territory.

"John, come to bed," I said, keeping my lips against his as I tugged on his shirt.

He paused for a moment and rested his forehead against mine, his eyes closed as he whispered, "I'm so sorry you had to go through this tonight. I feel responsible. Rocco is my…"

"Friend," I interrupted, finishing for him, taking his face in my hands so I can look him in the eyes. "And he's sick. It's no one's fault, no one could've seen this coming. I'm just grateful it wasn't truly the Albanians."

"I know."

"And we've been married five weeks. Five weeks tonight," I reminded him, kissing him briefly before smiling and pointing out, "And we need to celebrate because finally no one's trying to kill you."

He smiled back at me, and God, it just really hits me right in the gut how much I love him. And we can joke about it until the cows come home, but there's nothing funny at all about him being on anyone's hit list, and if it had come down to it, I would've taken out Rocco in a second in order to protect John.

"That's true," he agreed. He sat up and let his eyes walk over me again, but he didn't make any move to get undressed.

"Well, _I_ might if you don't get naked and get in bed with me," I said.

"You have a fork hiding in there somewhere?" he asked coyly, picking up the sheet and looking under it before throwing it off of me completely, and even though he was playing, I could feel the mood electrify as he looked at me stretched out in front of him, and then he turned to me and his eyes were dark and intense, sending arousal through me at a frantic rate.

"John," I began, but then I stopped as he stood up and quickly shed his clothes, dropping his two thousand dollar slacks into a heap on the floor without a second glance, and then he moved over top of me, and the feel of his skin sliding against mine, the anticipation of what was still to come, had me restless with need.

And for more than just making love.

I realize that he has me restless with need for having _everything_ with him.

"Buy me a house," I said as he leaned down to capture my lips. He stopped just a fraction away from me, my words clearly taking him by surprise, but a smile lit up his face.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't know why I'm saying it now because it makes me feel a little bit like I'm using sex to get what I want," I began rambling. "But you know I'm not, it's just that…"

"Mary, we're buying a house," he said, mercifully ending my wordy explanation.

"And we'll fill it with kids and dogs," I added.

"Kids and dogs," he repeated. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"Well, dogs first. Then kids," I amended, causing him to grin broadly.

"And I'll learn to cook," I added.

"You? Cook?" he teased. "Let's not get carried away."

I looked up at him, his dark brown eyes and his handsome face, and I love how I know every little nuance, every line and tiny wrinkle, and then I ran my hand down his back and over his butt as I smiled and said, "Yeah, let's. I want to get carried away."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next Up: Lauren**_


	50. Chapter 50

**Lauren POV**

* * *

As it turns out, time flies when no one's trying to kill me or my friends, because it's suddenly late July.

B and I've been married two months. To me, it feels like we've been together forever, and I mean that in a good way. I can't imagine how my life could be any better than it is right now.

I stepped out of the office building, onto the sidewalk and looked both ways, up and down the street, to see if Jennifer's here yet.

She's not, but that's okay, I don't mind waiting.

It's a beautiful Saturday and we're both off of work.

B's off, too, but he's with the guys doing guy stuff.

" _You don't mind, do you?"_ he asked me last night as we got ready for bed. _"They'll never finish if they don't have a little muscle come along."_

" _And that's you? The muscle?"_ I teased, which prompted him to flex shamelessly and playfully.

" _I need to see more,"_ I said thoughtfully, moving my hand in a circular gesture, encouraging him to take off more clothes.

" _You just want to see one muscle in particular,"_ he accused with a grin as he whipped his t-shirt over his head and then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and shoved them to the floor so that he was standing in front of me wearing nothing at all.

And I have to say, he's quite the specimen.

" _Well, yeah,"_ I agreed, looking over him appreciatively. I reached out and put my palm against his chest and then moved it slowly downward until I was stroking over the length of him.

" _I'm pretty sure this muscle won't be involved in carrying boxes,"_ he said, and his voice is suddenly husky and his amusement is gone as I continue working my hand lightly over him.

" _Then we should give it a good workout tonight, don't you think?"_ I proposed.

He agreed wholeheartedly, so it was quite some time later before we came back to our discussion.

" _I don't mind,"_ I said, relaxing comfortably in his arms. _"Jennifer's going to pick me up after my session, and we're going out to the Bronx."_

" _Oh, that's right. Okay, so it works out perfectly."_

I hummed my agreement and felt my eyes slipping closed, so I let it happen, drifting off to sleep.

Earlier today, B dropped me off at Skoda's and then headed for Brooklyn Heights, and now it's an hour later and I'm on the sidewalk, enjoying the sunshine and mentally rehashing my many sessions with Dr. Skoda.

" _The nightmares haven't gone away,_ " I told him that first day.

It was three days after I killed Flowers. The day after I killed Bryan Dennison.

I felt like neither shooting bothered me, but I was pretty ticked that I was still dreaming about Flowers. I thought that getting rid of him would give me solace, would take away my subconscious fear.

" _Did you think they would?"_ he asked. " _Go away this quickly?"_

He annoys me with his constant questions. It's his job, I know, but still…

" _Yes. I mean, he's dead. Why would I still be afraid of him?"_

" _I don't think the dreams have anything to do with current fear. I think your mind is still trying to work through what happened to you."_

" _It's been ten years,"_ I replied sharply.

" _And it's only been a few months since you acknowledged it. Since you went face to face with him, first in prison and then the other night, at Jennifer's apartment. It's still fresh, Lauren, because you didn't deal with it at the time it happened."_

I knew he was right, so I did my best to drop the attitude and let him help me work through it.

Now it's been a little more than a month since I killed Flowers and Dennison, and I've been back to full duty for most of that time, but Ross suggested I do a few more sit-downs with Skoda, just to be sure and to make my file look good, so I've been going once a week.

Today was my fifth session.

" _So how are you sleeping?"_ Skoda asked me when I first sat down this morning.

 _Naked, on my side, with Bernard wrapped around me_ , I thought with a smile, but out loud, I said proudly, " _Only one nightmare this week."_

" _Was it the same?"_

" _It was pretty watered down. And I'm not even sure it was all about Flowers. I mean, he was in it, but he was kind of like a zombie because I watched The Walking Dead right before I went to sleep."_

" _You're making light of it?"_ he asked, a small smile on his face.

" _I didn't wake up in a cold sweat,"_ I said with a shrug. _"In fact, I didn't wake up at all, and I only vaguely remembered it in the morning."_

" _That's progress,"_ he agreed with a nod, his smile growing bigger.

And it is, I agree.

It has taken me a while to get past that traumatic event, but not because of what happened to me, or what I did to Flowers, but because of what he did to Jennifer, and my guilt over being the cause.

But she and I have become closer than ever, and I know she doesn't blame me, so I've gradually been able to let go of my guilt.

"Hey, little girl, need a ride?"

I looked up to see Jennifer easing her car over to the curb. And people say _I_ look young. She has her hair up in a ponytail, and the windows are down, and the radio's thumping. She looks about fifteen. And happy. Very, very happy.

I trotted around to the passenger side and climbed in, buckling up as she pulled back into traffic.

"I guess Texas was good," I remarked.

She and Mike just got back last night, from a three-day trip to the old homestead.

"It was okay," she said, still smiling. "It was hot and dry and of course, my father was there. But I managed to get Mike on horse."

"I hope you took pictures," I said on a chuckle.

"A few," she said. "Let me tell you, he makes a pretty sexy cowboy."

"And your dad wasn't too bad?"

"Oh, he was exactly as I remembered him. Only smaller. I'm not sure why he was about six-four in my mind. But he _was_ still every bit the ass I remembered. He ridiculed me for bringing my boyfriend, for even having a boyfriend, and for my career – which really isn't a career, by the way. I'm just playing at being a grown up, running around with a badge and a gun."

"He said that?"

"And more," she replied casually. "But I can honestly say that I don't care. I think Skoda was exactly right, when he suggested that I go. I made the effort, I tried to talk with him, adult to adult, and I'm able to see him for who he is rather than the image in my head."

"Okay, hang on, how much therapy have you been doing? And seriously, how can you be so happy after a trip like that? It didn't stress you out?"

Because B and I went to Minnesota last weekend. Kind of an olive branch type trip. It's something I won't do again, that's for sure. My dad tried to behave himself, but it's not in his nature, and my mom barely made the effort at all, continually talking about grandkids and how I'm not getting any younger so I need to settle down and finish law school and then find a _real_ husband…

To say I was stressed would be an understatement.

"It did. There was some alcohol involved," Jennifer admitted, then she added with a grin, "And barn sex. Did I mention how good Mike looks in jeans and cowboy boots?"

"Yeah, I think you did," I said with a good-natured eye roll. "But there still has to be more to it."

Because I'm telling you, I've never her seen her looking like this.

She glanced over at me mischievously and then when she pulled the car to a stop at a red light, she turned to look at me for a second before purposefully shifting her eyes down to her hand. Her left hand.

"Oh my God, are you kidding me?" I practically squealed, and now I'm like a teenager too as I reached across the car to pull her hand from the steering wheel. "He asked you to marry him? When? How? I can't believe you didn't call me!"

"He just asked me last night, after we got back," she explained. "And after I said yes, I was kind of busy."

"Busy? What could possibly be more important than calling your best friend?" I teased.

"You want details?" she threatened playfully.

"About the proposal, yes. Whatever you did to celebrate, keep it to yourself."

She laughed and then took her hand back from where I've been ogling the large diamond on it.

"He said he's been carrying it around with him for a few weeks, trying to get up the nerve," she told me. "As if he thought I'd actually say no."

"You _have_ always been pretty adamantly against marriage," I pointed out.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But, God, Lauren…I think I would've said yes to him the day I met him. Well, maybe not that exact day, but pretty soon afterward."

"I know the feeling," I mused contentedly.

"That's right. You had your two-month anniversary yesterday, didn't you? Should I avoid your rug until you've had the chance to get it cleaned?"

I chuckled but avoided a response, since she's not wrong, and then I glanced at her finger again, where the sun is catching in the stone.

"Holy shit, I can't believe this," I remarked. "You're getting married. I can't wait to see you tell everyone else. Mary's going to have a field day."

"I know. But whatever. I'm too happy to care."

Twenty minutes later, we parked the car and got out, heading towards storage unit B57. I could hear laughter as we approached.

"Sounds like we have some catching up to do," Jennifer commented as we rounded the corner and entered the open unit where boxes are spread everywhere, and on top of one stack is bottle of Jose Cuervo.

Mary's holding another bottle in her hand, and after taking a drink from it, she passed it to Carolyn.

"Three shots down," Alex said.

"You've barely even started unpacking," I protested.

"We figured we needed to get in the right frame of mind," Liz explained as she came over to give me a hug. I went around and said my hellos, to Cecilia who's now happily upright on her own power in a walking cast, and Connie and Maddie, who are sitting on the open tailgate of a truck that's backed up next to the unit.

"You two look hard at it," I said with a smile.

"I just came to supervise," Connie answered.

"And I'm not sure I'm comfortable going through someone else's stuff," Maddie said quietly.

"You were invited," I pointed out, waving for them to scoot over, and then I hopped on the tailgate with them. "That means everything is fair game. And speaking of…"

"No!" Liz spoke up quickly. "Maddie doesn't get to talk about her sex life."

"I wasn't going to," Maddie said.

"Oh, yes you are," Jennifer insisted, bringing the bottle over to us, handing it to me. I took a drink and then gave it to Maddie as Jennifer added, "That's what we're here to do. Drink, talk about our sex lives, and unpack boxes."

Maddie looked skeptical, but took a swig of tequila anyway, and then she offered it to Connie.

"It's awfully early," she deflected.

"And?" Alex asked, having a bit of a cat ate the canary look.

"And…nothing," Connie shrugged. "I'm just saying…"

"Then say it," Carolyn interrupted, and suddenly all of us were looking at Connie.

"I'm pregnant," she admitted, and after a moment of cheers and congratulations, she said, "How did you guys know?"

"You're glowing," Alex responded. "And I'm married to Bobby, remember? He suggested it a few weeks ago. Due date?"

"March 21."

"First day of spring," Liz remarked. "Put me down for babysitting."

"Get in line," Alex said.

"Behind me, I already called dibs," I told them.

"When?" Connie asked me.

"Well, Lupo may have told B yesterday," I admitted. "He was pretty excited about it."

"Shell shocked would be the better word," she laughed. "Funny how we've been purposely trying and yet when it happens, he's surprised."

"He's going to be a great dad," Cecilia commented, and everyone nodded in agreement, and for a split second, I felt such a wave of jealousy and sadness, knowing it's never going to be me and B in that situation, with people making over my pregnancy and talking about what a great dad he'll be…but then the moment passed.

I love my life, and I love my husband, and we don't need anything more than just us.

Jennifer caught my eye, and it's like she knows what I'm thinking, and I suppose she does, since I basically tell her everything these days, but like I said, I'm already over it, so the moment with her really just reminded me about _her_ news.

"And speaking of glowing," I tossed out, looking pointedly at Jennifer.

"Well, you aren't pregnant," Mary stated since Jennifer was currently taking another drink, so then she eyed her carefully, and it only took another second to notice the ring. "Austin, you're engaged?"

"Guess you don't need to ship me off to Utah after all," Jennifer replied with a grin.

"Utah?" Maddie asked.

"When I first started dating Mike, she warned me against hurting him. I believe you said something like _you can screw him, just don't screw him over,_ didn't you, Mary?"

"That sounds familiar," Maddie said. "Substitute Jeremy for Mike, and I've heard that same tune."

"I still mean it, Omaha," Mary retorted, causing both Jennifer and Maddie to roll their eyes at her.

Those two are partners these days. Mary went back to working as the boss, heading up the five-man unit. She said she's getting older, and wants a more normal workday, but I think it has more to do with the dog John bought her, to go along with their new house. I'm thinking it's a trial run for kids.

For some reason, it seems like the situation with Rocco really settled her down. Maybe it made her think more seriously about what she wants out of life, or maybe it secured her knowledge of John's feelings for her, I don't know, but I can see the difference in her, and it suits her.

Speaking of Rocco, he's still in Bellevue awaiting trial. In spite of not wanting charges filed against him, ultimately, we had no choice. He pulled two loaded weapons on a room full of citizens, as well as marshals and detectives, including the chief of D's himself.

He won't do any kind of hard time, but maybe it'll be long enough for him to get back on track with his medication. Mary said she and John visited him the other day, and he's starting to seem more like himself. And he was remorseful for what he put them through. I think that's a good start, and I have no doubt that once he's released, they'll help him get back on his feet.

"I think you kind of said the same thing to me about Mulder," Cecilia said to Connie.

"I did not," Connie argued.

"With your eyes, you did," Cecilia laughed. "Admit it, you were worried about me."

"Maybe," she admitted. "But look how well it's turned out."

"Yeah, how was your first week at the DA's office?" Jennifer asked her.

"Well, someone whisked away my boss for three of those first five days," Cecilia replied. "So I was basically working for Connie, which was a lot of fun."

"Are you saying Mike won't be fun?"

"No, not at all," she answered quickly, clearly getting flustered. "I just meant, I mean…"

"She's teasing you," I rescued. "So you like the work?"

"It's amazing. And Mary's apartment is working out perfectly."

It's a sublet for Cecilia, so once upon a time, it was me and Mary in the same building and now it's Mulder and Cecilia. I wonder how much time she actually spends in her own apartment, versus staying in Mulder's. _Probably not much_ , I mused.

"Okay, we have work to do," Alex spoke up. "So everybody pick a box and get started, and while we're looking through the stuff, Jennifer's going to tell us about the proposal and Maddie's going to fill us in on her sex life."

We all moved towards the unit, intent on pulling everything out of the boxes so that Carolyn can decide yay or nay, and Maddie protested again, so Mary handed her the bottle while Jennifer happily began her narrative.

"Okay, so do we want the PG version? Or the R?" she questioned as she opened up a box.

"R," was the consensus from everyone except Connie, and then Cecilia agreed, too, since he's their boss, but they were overridden.

"R it is."

"Wait, was he naked when he got down on one knee?" Alex asked. "Because it doesn't really count as R if he wasn't."

"Not everyone proposes like Bobby," Carolyn teased her.

"Bobby was naked when he asked you to marry him?" I asked in amusement, trying simultaneously to picture it and _not_ picture it. "Where was he stashing the ring?"

That sparked a round of laughter, and I was glad to see Carolyn in a good mood, too, because I'm sure this has to be hard on her, but this was Alex's idea, to turn it into a girls' day, and I think it was a good one.

"Go ahead, Austin," Mary prompted. "I really need to hear how Mike snagged the woman who said she'd never get married."

"Well, I _have_ mentioned his bat, right?" Jennifer joked. "No, seriously, so we got back from the airport, and went to his place…"

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Logan**_


	51. Chapter 51

**Logan POV**

* * *

I expected John's so-called little house in the suburbs to be a monstrosity, but it isn't. I mean, sure, it's expensive without a doubt. It has an actual yard and yet it's still close to the city.

But the house itself is modest.

Very, very nice, but not huge.

It's exactly the type of place that Mary will be comfortable living in.

"Next poker night is here," Bernard commented as John walked us through the place. "You have enough bedrooms for everyone to crash."

"There's only five," John replied.

"Yeah, and I'm not sleeping with you, B. Sorry."

"Ouch, Lupes. What's the matter, you think I'll hog the covers?" he joked.

"I think I don't want to know."

"I think the subway station is close enough, so why would I stay here when I can hop a train and in fifteen minutes, I'll be in bed with my girl?" Jeremy spoke up.

"You have a girl?" I teased.

"A woman," he corrected. "And yes, I do."

"Uh huh. The inspector," Bobby said skeptically. "How did that happen anyway?"

"Hell if I know," Jeremy grinned. "But I'm all in, you know?"

He and Aaron did a quick fist bump as Ross rolled his eyes dramatically, and then the whole group headed back towards the kitchen.

We've been out here most of the day, helping John carry in Mary's boxes. There seem to be a million of them.

It's funny, how she's paranoid about hiring anyone to do it. Not that I mind, of course. It's been a nice change of pace for all of us, just hanging out and doing a little physical labor.

"So is the truck empty yet?" I whined good-naturedly.

"No, but it's time for a beer break," Bernard answered. "Where did Mary get all that stuff, anyway? When Lauren moved in, we made three trips up and down the stairs and that was it."

"Three?" Mulder questioned dubiously. "Dude, I think you were too busy _getting_ busy, while I was doing all the carrying."

"Sounds about right," Cutter agreed.

It's weird, but for some reason, I didn't expect him to show up today. Mike Cutter, I mean.

And I know, he's one of the group now, but he's still a lawyer. Someone used to using his brain more than his body.

Or at least, that's what I thought. But he's here, in gym shorts and a t-shirt and tennis shoes, and he's carried just as much as anyone else.

And he's smiled the entire time.

"You just got back from Texas, didn't you?" I asked him as John tossed each of us a can of beer.

"Last night," he answered. "You think it's hot _here_."

Bobby came up next to me, and I know he knows I'm about to grill him, so I guess he didn't want to miss out on the fun.

"So you met her dad. That's serious stuff, Counselor," Bobby said.

"Especially since you had to fly halfway across the country to do it."

"And you took vacation days, instead of just going on a weekend," John jumped in.

"I did," Cutter answered carefully.

"So dude, what are you waiting for? Are you going to marry her or what?" Mulder asked, bypassing all couth.

"I'm…I…yes," he replied. "Actually, I am. I asked her last night."

"And she actually said yes?" I joked.

"I know," he agreed quickly. "I think we need to hurry up and do it before she changes her mind."

"Wait, so we can do a bachelor party in Atlantic City now, right?" Jeremy said. "I mean, Bernard did it without telling anyone, and so did John, pretty much, but you guys are only engaged, you didn't actually go out and do it last night, did you?"

And yeah, he's drinking a beer, too. I'll give Ross points for not going overboard on the dad thing. The boys are here, working just as hard as everyone else, and they're with him, so I don't see any harm in it, and I guess he doesn't either.

"I do still own a hotel or two in AC," John said encouragingly, looking over at Cutter. "Are you going to give me some time to plan it, or is it happening tonight?"

"Oh, that's really not necessary," he deflected.

"Yes, it is," Aaron said excitedly, and then he paused and turned to his dad, saying, "Unless…you're going to let me go, aren't you?"

Ross hesitated for a minute, and I'm sure he's thinking about whether or not there'll be strippers, but then Bobby said, "How about in the penthouse, at the Millennium? You won't be living there anymore, so we can do a poker game and relentlessly torment Mike about his decision to get married, and yet the minors will still be welcome."

"Done," John agreed immediately. "Mike?"

"Yeah, sounds perfect. What do I need with strippers anyway?"

"Dude, right?" Mulder said. "You've already got a woman hotter than any stripper, and she gets naked for you whenever you want, right?"

Sometimes I forget that he's still so socially immature. I mean, he's come a long way, but his blunt comment had me cracking up.

"It's not cool to talk about another guy's almost-wife in the context of being naked," Lupo said, working hard to hold back a laugh.

"What? It's not like I've _seen_ her naked, or imagine what she looks like, or…"

"Mulder, dude," Jeremy interrupted. "Stop talking."

"No, I'm just saying, I have Cecilia, right?" he continued innocently. " _She's_ the only one I'm thinking about, you know what I'm saying?"

"Well, I've pictured her," Aaron spoke up, causing all of us to look at him. "I mean, she's super hot, and I'm a guy. Sue me."

He shrugged and then took a sip of his beer, and Danny just shook his head and said, "He's eighteen. Remember that before you kick his ass, Mike."

I looked over at Cutter, because this whole thing is killing me but he's not as laid back as I am, so I'm not sure what he's thinking right now, but as I was debating if I should step in, Mike grabbed Aaron in a playful headlock, subduing the kid as he instructed, "You're not allowed within ten feet of my future wife, got it?"

"Go, Counselor," I encouraged. "Make it twenty."

Everyone else was laughing as Cutter roughhoused with the kid, manhandling him in spite of Aaron having some size on him, as well as the advantage of youth, until finally Aaron threw his brother under the bus.

"Hey, it was Jeremy, too! He was saying not too long ago, how he wanted to show Jennifer the error of her ways!"

"Dude, that's messed up!" Jeremy said quickly. "And it _was_ a long time ago. Before I met Maddie. And even then, I didn't mean it."

Cutter looked over at him, where he was standing holding up his hands innocently, but he just grinned at him, and then he let go of Aaron, and took a step back from him.

"Just don't forget that I can whip your ass, youngster," he said, ruffling his hand over Aaron's head.

"Jennifer taught you some moves, huh?" Lupo asked with a grin.

"At least he doesn't have a black eye. He must be a better student than you are teacher," Bernard joked.

"I need to get Maddie to teach me some of that," Jeremy said in awe. "He had you from the get, A."

"He's old. I didn't want to hurt him," Aaron deflected jokingly.

"Aaron," Ross admonished.

"Doesn't bother me," Mike said with a shrug. "I'm the old guy who's marrying a hot chick, right, Aaron?"

Aaron grinned and fist bumped him, and said something about how maybe Cutter isn't so old after all, which is a relief to me since he's ten years younger than I am, and then Bobby got the conversation back on track, saying, "Anyway, bachelor party. How long do we have, Mike?"

"We haven't set a date. But I don't see us waiting too long. Her dad won't be coming, and my parents are long gone, so it's just us."

"And all of us," Lupo stated.

Cutter nodded, seeming appreciative of being so clearly included, and then Lupo shook his hand and hugged him, slapping him on the back as he said, "You're getting married. That's so awesome."

"And you," Bernard said leadingly, looking at his partner.

"He what?" I asked, but then Bobby chucked me and I have a feeling I know what he's going to say.

"I'm going to be a dad," Lupo announced.

His news called for cigars, which John promptly produced, and another round of beers for everyone.

" _I'm second guessing if I should want kids."_

That's what Carolyn said to me this morning. It was early, the sun not yet up, but we were both awake, lying in the bed.

" _You mean, you think you should want them?"_ I asked, knowing that our conversation with Mary from the night before is what prompted this renewed soul searching. It shocked the hell out of me, that Mary said she's thinking about it and it's more a _when_ than _if_ , but I'm happy for her. Of course, that hasn't made _me_ change my mind.

" _I'm going today to clear out my family's stuff. The last bit of evidence that they even existed, and I'm the only one alive to remember them, and what happens when I die? We're all just…gone. No one will care, and no one will remember."_

" _That's not true."_

" _Okay, you'll care and you'll remember, but you know what I'm saying."_

" _Sweetheart, we're living our lives exactly as we want. We catch bad guys, and we do it together, and we have a lot of friends who love us. Thinking about what will be left after we die shouldn't change that."_

She was quiet for a moment, and I know it's hard on her, thinking about going through her family's possessions, and I partly blame myself for letting it go on so long, so I'm really glad that this happened, with the storage facility forcing her hand and Alex turning it into a girls' day.

" _We do have a pretty good life, don't we?_ " she said after another minute.

" _It's incredible,"_ I corrected.

" _If we had kids, we couldn't go out to a murder scene at two in the morning."_

" _We'd feel guilty about being in dangerous situations together,"_ I added.

" _And we already don't get enough sleep. Can you imagine what it'd be like if we were juggling this and children?"_

" _We couldn't walk around the house naked. Probably couldn't even sleep naked, in case they wanted to get in bed with us,"_ I tossed out, running my hand over her bare skin.

" _Is it selfish of me to be happy with the way things are? The fact that I don't want to share you, or lighten the load of my career?"_

" _Absolutely not,"_ I assured her. _"And you know, there are plenty of people who'll miss us when we're gone. Who'll remember the good we did, that we fought the good fight."_

" _Especially if Mary has a baby."_

" _Oh my God, I can't even believe she's thinking about it. I mean, she'll be great, but still, I never thought I'd see the day."_

" _Me either. But that baby will be our niece or nephew. We can spoil him rotten."_

" _And tell him stories about our cases."_

" _And then we can come home and go to bed naked. And sleep."_

" _Sleep?"_ I teased, my stroking of her skin growing more fervent. " _How am I supposed to sleep when you're naked?"_

" _You were a little while ago,"_ she said wryly.

" _But I'm not now."_

So that's how we ended up making love while the sun came up, and by the time we went downstairs to make pancakes, her mood was improved, and she was ready for the day.

" _I'm not really second guessing,_ " she told me. " _I mean, I guess I was, but in the sense that I wanted to be sure my decision is the right one. Not because I don't think it is but because I needed to know that you think it is, too."_

" _I think it's what's exactly right for us."_

But apparently it's not what's right for Lupo and Connie.

That doesn't really surprise me all that much, though. I mean, they're years younger than we are. If Carolyn and I had gotten together earlier in life, maybe we would've thought differently about it, too. And Connie's job isn't dangerous, like Carolyn's.

Regardless, I'm tickled shitless for them.

"Pool starts now," Bernard said, pulling a twenty out of his wallet. "My money's on a girl."

Money was tossed onto the counter, and Jeremy took over writing down the predictions and logging in bets, and while that was happening, Mulder moved over beside me.

"Pretty cool about the baby, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I can't decide if I feel more like an uncle or a big brother."

I chuckled at his remark, and then he stepped even closer and said quietly, "So, um…Lupo taught me how to shoot."

"Yeah, I heard about that. He said you're a natural."

"Thanks," he said, beaming from ear to ear. "But um, I was wondering, if, you know, since your wife used to be a G-man, or I guess G-woman…do they call them that? Or is it like mailman or postman and _man_ just applies to everyone?"

"Mulder, spit it out. What about my wife working at the FBI? You work there, too."

"Yeah, but you know, last month with the whole thing, the Hanson guy strapped up…"

He trailed off again, and we both were thoughtful for a moment.

Freaking Chris Hanson who wanted to blow up the building, taking everyone I care about along with him.

Bobby and Alex had to stand in that room with him, knowing that at any moment he might push the button.

I hate that guy. He's dead now, but I still hate him. See, a week after going to Rikers, he took a shiv to the neck and bled out in the showers. I don't know if it's because he was a DA, or if Jocelyn Moser got to him for blowing her chance at an appeal, but either way, I feel like it's justice.

"Anyway," he continued. "It's, well, I was thinking, and it's like…"

"You liked it," I said, suddenly catching on. "You like the chase. You liked taking down the bad guy. You like it more in person than through your computer."

"What? No, I…" he began, denying it vehemently until he glanced around and saw no one was listening, and then he said, "Yeah. Do you think it's crazy if I want to be an agent? I mean, do you think I'll get in, if maybe Carolyn calls someone?"

I looked at him in surprise, mostly at the fact that he's afraid I think it's a silly idea. I mean, he's a perfect candidate. He has a nose for crime-solving, and a strong sense of right and wrong. He's in great physical condition, now fully healed after the gun shot this past spring, and he's smart as hell.

"Yeah, you'll get in," I told him. "But why are we whispering?"

"Well, you know, I figured if it was dumb, you'd tell me, and if it's not, then you can help me."

"It's not dumb. And you don't need Carolyn to make a call," I said. "But you know, the police academy would be an option, too. And I happen to know somebody high up in the NYPD."

"I thought of that," he said, finally relaxing enough to smile. "But you know, I want to be my own man, right? Stand on my own two feet? I mean, other than getting a good recommendation from your wife."

"I get it," I agreed. "And we're already hell on joint investigations, using the marshal service. Just think about the bad guys we'll catch if we team up with the feds, too."

"Yeah," he said, now grinning fully. "Yeah, it's gonna be sofa king, right?"

"If that means pretty cool, then yeah."

"So fucking cool," he explained. "You know, like sofa king. So fucking…"

"Ah…wow, Mulderese explained," I laughed. "And it makes sense. I like it."

"Hey, we got ten," Bernard said suddenly. "And I noticed a hoop in the driveway. You got a ball, Strathmore?"

"Lupo's on my team," Jeremy said immediately.

"I got Bobby," Aaron spouted out quickly.

"Logan," Jeremy responded, so I guess those two are divvying up teams.

"Hey, you guys know I played in school, right?" Bernard said, sounding slightly offended at not being chosen yet.

"High school," Lupo pointed out.

"Still..."

"Yeah, but you're like the shortest one here, so sorry, dude," Aaron said. "I'll take Cutter."

"Huh," Bernard groused. "Picking a lawyer over the big cat. Now that hurts."

"Don't feel bad. I haven't been picked yet, either," Ross said.

"Yeah, but you're…" Bernard began, before wisely stopping himself.

"I'm what?" the chief retorted.

"Not tall either," I filled in for him.

"Exactly," Jeremy said. "Mulder, you're with me!"

"So we're playing basketball?" Mulder said under his breath as Jeremy and Aaron haggled over who was going to get _stuck_ with their dad. "Should I tell them I've never played?"

"Nope," I said, slapping him on the back as we followed the group out onto the driveway. "And no worries about the Bureau. I'll get Carolyn to put in a call this weekend, and then you can apply for field agent status. That means four months at Quantico. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, it's all good."

"Four months away from Cecilia," I reminded him. He paused for a minute, but then smiled and said, "It'll be worth it. She'll want me to do it, if it's what I want to do. And it is."

"Sounds like you've got a keeper, then. You know you're next, right?"

"Next for what?"

"Check it, Logan," Bernard said, tossing the ball at me in feigned annoyance, since I was picked before him.

"Bring it, big cat," I teased, and then I glanced back at Mulder and said, "Marriage!"

He stared at me blankly, not moving as Aaron drove past him easily, making the money shot.

"Mulder, dude, what was that?" Jeremy shouted. "D up!"

"Sorry," he responded, but then he looked over at me, nodding his head as a shy smile spread across his face and said, "Yeah, that might be next. After Q-town. I mean, it'd be righteous, yeah?"

"Yeah, Mulder. It's sofa king."

 **TBC...**

 _ **Next up: Alex** _


	52. Chapter 52

**Alex POV**

* * *

The day turned out even better than I hoped.

I knew it was going to be hard on Carolyn, but having our friends around would make it as easy as possible, and I honestly think that she was making it worse in her mind than it turned out to be.

Not that I blame her. I'd want to procrastinate, too.

But her family's deaths happened a long time ago, so going through their memories would probably be more bittersweet than devastating.

Although she _did_ resist me, at first.

" _I'm not sure I want to do this."_

" _You do,"_ I insisted, and then I took the key from Carolyn's hand and opened the padlock on her storage unit.

I like that the weather is beautiful, bright and sunny with a clear blue sky. It has to help her mood, because God knows it's helping mine.

Well, the weather and the fact that we've gone more than a month now without any major crises. I couldn't even let the news of Hanson's death bother me, more than just a passing _huh, that's a shame_. A shame because of what he did with his life, not because of his death. He pissed away a great career and a happy family just for sex. I can't understand it. I mean, I like sex as much as the next person…maybe even more, considering I get to have it with Bobby, but still…who throws it all away for a prostitute?

 _Too many men_ , I decided.

Anyway, like I said, it's a gorgeous day, and we're in shorts and t-shirts instead of work attire, and the rest of the gang is joining us shortly, so it's the perfect time to get it done.

Besides, she's put it off long enough, because the deadline for her to get her things out is the first of August, and that's only a few days away.

" _But there's so much,"_ she complained as I tugged on the roll-top door, sending it clanking into its track and revealing the dozens upon dozens of boxes inside.

" _Good thing I brought along our good friend, Jose,"_ I replied casually, setting down my bag on the sidewalk next to the doorway and then reaching inside for the bottle.

" _It's twelve-thirty,"_ she said, finally cracking a smile.

" _And your point is…"_

I stared at her challengingly for a moment until she shrugged and held out her hand, so I gave her the bottle. She tore the seal off the cap and then took a drink straight from the bottle before handing it back to me.

" _So how should we do this?_ " I asked after taking a drink and then setting the bottle down on the nearest box.

" _It is a little overwhelming, isn't it?_ " she replied, her focus moving over the stacks upon stacks of boxes. " _I'm open to suggestions."_

" _I think we need to pull everything out, so that you can see what it is, and then you can make up your mind which keepsakes you'd like to hang on to."_

So that's what we did. Of course, there were a lot of distractions, like when Liz showed up carrying a second bottle of tequila. And then Mary came, bringing Maddie in tow, followed by Connie and Cecilia. Lauren and Jennifer were last, and by that time we were several shots in, and suddenly the work in front of us didn't seem quite so daunting. In fact, we had a lot of fun.

Of course, I have to pay Bobby five bucks, since he guessed that Connie's pregnant.

But he owes me ten, since I pegged Jennifer and Mike's engagement. I actually said it would happen while they were in Texas, rather than once they got home, but he'll give me leeway, since it was the same day, _and_ since he picked the second week of August.

" _Oh my God, is this you?_ " Lauren spoke up at one point, pulling a photograph out of a box.

Carolyn stopped what she was doing to go take a closer look, as did the rest of us.

A dark-haired little girl, probably about ten, was sitting on the front stoop of a brick apartment building, and reading a book.

" _It has to be,_ " Liz remarked. " _Right?"_

" _No, check out the book title,_ " Carolyn said.

" _ **Delta of Venus?**_ _Are you sure this isn't you?_ " I said wryly, flashing Carolyn a grin.

" _I'm sure,"_ she said, taking the picture from Lauren's hand and looking at it fondly. " _Of course, I read it when she was finished."_

" _And took notes, no doubt,"_ I replied. _"Highlighted, annotated…_ "

" _What is it? I haven't even heard of it,"_ Maddie remarked.

" _A collection of erotic stories,"_ Jennifer said. _"I read it in college."_

" _You don't need to read it,"_ Liz said firmly to Maddie. " _No need to give you any more ideas."_

" _Any more? We haven't heard about the ideas she's already had, much less the reality,"_ Mary said. " _Come on, Maddie. Aren't you going to share how Jeremy is in bed?"_

" _Not in front of his mother, no,_ " Maddie responded.

" _Smart girl,"_ I told her, then I patted Liz on the shoulder and said, " _Go home, Liz."_

I was teasing, of course, and after letting Maddie flail in the breeze for a bit, we moved on to another topic, and before long, the boxes were all empty, and we had things divided into piles of throw away, give away, and keep, and I was impressed that Carolyn's keep pile was small enough to fit into two boxes.

" _Perfect,"_ I said quietly as I helped her pack away the photo albums and a couple of old VHS tapes, and a ratty stuffed dog, along with the actual copy of _**Delta of Venus**_ , from the picture of her sister.

" _I think so,"_ she agreed. " _And Mike'll be happy, since I now have pictures of my childhood."_

She paused, showing me a photo of her as a teenager, looking unexpectedly cute and normal, the epitome of the popular high schooler.

" _And to think I had you pegged for a nerd in school."_

" _Me? No. I mean, yeah, I liked books, but I liked boys, too,_ " she said with a smile. _"A lot."_

" _What's not to like?"_ I replied, bumping her shoulder with mine. " _So what do you say we get this cleaned up and then see what our boys are up to?"_

" _Trouble, no doubt,"_ Mary said, coming up behind us and throwing an arm around each of us. _"Everything okay over here?"_

" _Not really,"_ Carolyn said, surprising me, since I thought she was doing pretty good, but then she caught my eye, and she has a mischievous expression on her face, so I waited to hear what came next.

" _What's wrong? What can I do?"_

" _Connie's pregnant,"_ Carolyn said.

" _Yeah…"_

" _So don't you think you need to get busy? You don't want her to one up you, do you? I mean, look what you did with the wedding, moving it up a month every single day. It doesn't work like that with kids, you know."_

" _Ha ha,"_ Mary snorted. _"I said I'm thinking about it, not that I'm ready to do it."_

" _So…when?"_

" _December, maybe,"_ she replied smartly, then she winked and added, " _Maybe November."  
_

It was late in the afternoon before Mike and Bobby came to pick up me and Carolyn.

The others had left already, making trips to goodwill and the trash dump, so it was just the two of us, sitting on the sidewalk with her two boxes next to us, and we were finishing up the last little bit of tequila when the guys approached, looking hot and sweaty.

And good. Very, very good.

" _You couldn't possibly have worked that hard,"_ Carolyn said.

" _Do you have any idea how many boxes Mary had?"_ Logan retorted.

" _A lot, but not that many,"_ Bobby admitted, dropping down to the ground next to me. He nudged me with his sweaty leg, and then he flashed me a smile, and I love how his hair is long enough to get curly, since it's damp, and how he looks like he really enjoyed his day. " _We shot some hoops."_

" _I'm sorry I missed that."_

" _I'm sorry, too. You pass me the ball,"_ he replied. _"Aaron kept forgetting I was on his team."_

" _That's because you bricked the first one,"_ Logan said on a laugh.

" _I did not. And what about you? You dribbled off your foot."_

" _Once,"_ Logan insisted. " _And that's only because you shoved me right when I started to move."_

" _Boys, I'm sure you were both equally stellar,_ " Carolyn said. " _In fact, I think the Knicks are going to call any minute."_

I chuckled while Logan feigned being offended, and then he said, " _You want to go one on one? I'll take you, Barek."_

" _Any time,"_ she agreed with a smile.

" _No, not any time,"_ I said. " _Right now, I'm starving. How about you two big strong guys load these boxes, and we'll get out of here? Steve-O's is calling my name."_

So that's how we ended up here, on Saturday evening, with two of our best friends. It feels quiet, since it's just the four of us, but it's nice sometimes, to have fewer conversations to keep up with.

"Hey, I told Mulder I'd get you to make a call for him," Logan said, once we placed our order.

"Me? For what?" Carolyn asked.

"He wants to be a field agent."

"Seriously? That's great," I said. "He'll be good at it."

"Yeah, I think so, too. So you'll make the call?"

"I don't think he needs my help at all, but I'm happy to do it."

"He's really grown up," Bobby mused. "Next thing you know, he'll be getting married."

"Seems headed that way. And speaking of, you should see the rock on Jennifer's finger. Mike's been saving his money for a while, I think."

"Is it just me, or does it feel weird that we're like the old married couples of the bunch?" Carolyn posed. "Well, us and Liz and Danny."

"It does seem a little strange," I mused. "But I like it. I like seeing everyone else happy."

We were all quiet for a minute, and then Logan said, "You guys realize we've gone more than a month without anything major happening, don't you?"

"Mike, you know you aren't supposed to say that!" Carolyn replied, bumping into his shoulder playfully. "You just jinxed it. Great, you may as well pay the check now because the phone's going to ring any second."

But it didn't.

Instead, the four of us had a really nice evening, talking and laughing, and rehashing old cases.

And then Bobby and I spent Sunday doing normal couple things. Groceries, laundry, some light cleaning.

Mundane tasks that aren't really my thing, and I was almost praying for a call to come in, but it didn't, and then I was grateful, as we enjoyed a quiet dinner together, and then a movie.

"We made it all weekend," I said that evening as we snuggled together in the bed, all the lights out but the blinds open so we could watch the raging thunderstorm outside.

"Uh huh," he murmured, his lips against the top of my head. "And did you have fun?"

"I did. A lot, actually. I don't need the job to be happy. I just need you."

"Me, too," he agreed.

I stared through the glass as the lightning flashed, and then I waited for the accompanying rumble, and I started thinking about everything he and I have been through.

The cases, and the personal crises, and the friendships and heartbreaks…it's been a hell of a ride.

"But Alex?" he said softly, as if we just spoke moments ago instead of several long minutes having passed.

"Hmm?"

"I like the job, too. I love working it with you. And as much as I love our quiet moments together, I love the excitement and thrill of the hunt, too, you know?"

"Exactly," I said, smiling as I turned towards him, bringing my lips to his for a nice, easy kiss.

Or at least, that was my intent. But after a few seconds, it turned into something more, and as the thunder rolled again, he pulled me more fully on top of him, his hands roaming over my back, and the intensity of the kiss had me tugging at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin beneath my hands…

And then the phone rang.

 **THE END**


End file.
